The Plague Ship
by Rico Perrien
Summary: AU from August 5, 1995. Sirius Black gets more proactive about Harry's upcoming trial. Rating M for some nastiness, to be safe, but nothing much happening, so you will have to get your 'jollies' elsewhere
1. Flight

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Chapter 1: Flight**

He awoke suddenly, feeling a hand over his mouth. Instinctively, he reached for his wand, and his glasses, in that order, as defense was at the moment far more important than vision.

In his ear, he heard his godfather's voice. "Harry, wake up and be quiet. We need to go! Now!"

Putting on his glasses, Harry Potter looked around 'his' room at #12 Grimmauld Place, London, and looked up at Sirius Black, who was looking very worried.

"What's going on? Why do we have to leave now?" he asked.

Sirius looked serious. "Harry, I have a really bad feeling about this situation. I don't trust them as far as I could throw Hogwarts into a stiff headwind! Any of them. This just seems too much like fourteen years ago, when they threw me into Azkaban without a trial, and absolutely nobody bothered to check out why not. Not even Dumbledore. They did it to me, and from the look of things, they are trying to do it to you. You're even more of a problem to them because you actually saw Voldemort, and now they have sent dementors after you and you still got away from _them_! I just have a feeling about this, and I think we should go, now."

Harry looked through bleary eyes and asked 'What time is it?"

The older wizard nodded. "Good question. I think it's about half past one in the morning. I think everybody's asleep, and we need to go before anybody wakes up."

Behind Sirius, they heard a gruff voice say quietly "Lumos", Harry grabbed his wand as Sirius spun to look at his old mentor from his auror days.

Alastor Moody smiled. "Black, I know I taught you better than that. I guess thirteen years out of practice made you rusty." He paused and whispered "Silencio et audibilius". Listening to the enhanced sounds of the people sleeping in the house, he nodded.

Just then he felt the tip of Harry's wand just behind his ear. He heard Harry's voice ask "Who are you really, Professor? What did you do to frighten Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom last year?"

Moody smiled. "I was never your professor, Potter, and I did nothing to Longbottom and Weasley. I was locked in a box most of last year." Harry nodded to Sirius and lowered his wand.

"I guess you're not that rusty after all, Black. You remembered to use constant vigilance and evaluation, because you can't trust people. I agree with you. Potter here saw Voldemort rise again, and noted who was with him. I heard his story, and I noticed that Fudge had Barty Crouch 'Kissed' before he could be questioned. That worries me, badly. Potter saw Lucius Malfoy at the graveyard, and I have noticed that he has a little too much influence around the building downtown for my liking."

"I wouldn't trust Fudge with a burned out candle, much less Potter's freedom, or even his life. You need to go. I'll head back to bed, and stupefy myself so I don't witness you leaving. And by the way, give Bunny my regards."

With this, the retired master auror closed the door, and they could hear his footsteps going down the hall. The two wizards noticed that, by the door, he had left the wand he used for a lantern

Harry looked at Sirius, and asked "What did he mean, 'Give Bunny my regards'?"

Sirius smiled. "He was giving me instructions that he and I would understand, but no one else, including you, I see, would figure out. Now, put together whatever you don't want to leave behind. We're leaving. We are going upstairs where Buckbeak has been staying. By the way, you wouldn't believe the amount of manure a grown hippogriff can produce."

Harry gathered up his belongings, and was about to leave the room, when Sirius stopped him short. Pulling out his own wand, he ran it over Harry, his possessions, and three times over Harry's wand. He nodded, and mumbled, "The old man must be getting soft. When I was a trainee, he would have hit me upside the head with a quidditch bat, but tonight he just called me rusty. His motto was always 'Constant Vigilance', and tonight I let down my guard. He reminded me of that, in a kind way. Certainly kinder than he was back in basic training."

"You've got three tracking spells on your wand, and five on your stuff." Waving his wand, he dispelled the spells, and then checked himself. "I checked me before, but 'Constant Vigilance'. Moody might have cast something while we were not watching him. But I can see he didn't. Nice of him. Unusual. The old man must be really worried."

He then checked the wand by the door. "Most interesting! He left an untrackable auror's wand. He is _really_ worried. Okay, let's go."

Being as quiet as they could, Harry and Sirius crept up the stairs to the attic where the condemned hippogriff was being kept out of the sight of officialdom.

Casting silencing spells, they entered the room, and woke the great beast. Sirius pulled out a beef roast from his bag and tossed it to the creature, who appeared pleased with the offering.

Mounting up, Harry asked "Where are we going?", to which his godfather merely replied "East."


	2. Landing

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Chapter 2: Landing**

**A/N:** Rather than inflict you with my long-forgotten high-school French, please assume everything in this chapter in italics is in the French language, and is grammatically correct. The French phrase 'Mon vieux' is equivalent to the English 'Old Boy'.

It was about three in the morning at the offices of the National Police (_Le Gendarmerie_) in Calais. In a small office located off one side of the atrium, which was used as a car-park and broom storage, was a window looking out onto the two cars sitting on the tarmac.

Lieutenant Henri Defense and Sergeant Michel Thibeault were sitting drinking coffee, chatting and waiting for the night shift to end. Most of their officers, both wizards and witches, were over near the docks at the customs building, checking for contraband coming to or going from the busy port. Thibeault was reading a copy of 'Le Quidditch, Aujourd'hui et Demain', when his superior whispered "Mon Dieu! Sacre Merde!"

The Sergeant looked up to see a fully grown hippogriff landing in the car-park. Two men slid down off the back of the magnificent beast and walked directly through the office door. Defense realized immediately that this meant that at least one of the two was very familiar with the office's location, which was purposefully not widely publicized even among the wizarding community.

The elder of the two newcomers bowed to the officers and said "_Good evening gentlemen. My godson and I request political asylum. May I enquire if Captain Lelapin is still working out of this office?"_

Defense responded, "_Good evening, Monsieur. How is it that you know the Captain_?"

Sirius said, "_I used to be an auror, before I was falsely accused and thrown into prison without a trial. My instructor and I worked several cases with Captain Lelapin, and I hoped '_Bunny_' was still around to corroborate my identity. My name is Sirius Black. I understand that you have an outstanding extradition request from the British Ministry of Magic, with an order to administer a 'Kiss on Capture'. My godson and I are fleeing Britain and request political asylum, as we are under threat of death from those people._"

Lieutenant Defense smiled as the man before him had used his previous superior's childhood nickname, which was only known to his closest associates. This was strong evidence that this man was who he said he was.

Then Black said, "_Messieurs, I ask that you question me and my companion with Veritaserum and record the finding with a witness pensieve. Our lives are at risk and I wish you to have no doubts as to our veracity._"

Harry started to say in English "I am …" when Thibeault exclaimed "You are Harry Potter, the Hogwarts seeker and Tri-Wizard champion!" He held up his quidditch periodical. "I have recognise you from the photos. There was great hope for your career in quidditch among we who follow the greatest sport in the world!"

Harry blushed. "I did not know I was known outside Britain. I have never sought fame, but it always seems to be dumped on me. Thank you for your kind words."

Defense looked at the two. "_Is there anyone in France that you wish me to contact while we wait for the official channels to decide how to proceed. You must realize that this office cannot by itself grant your request._"

Sirius looked unhappy. "_I had hoped that _Bunny_ would be available to help. May I ask, is he in good health?_"

Defense smiled. "_The good Captain was seriously injured in an operation breaking up a cauldron smuggling ring. To recognise his valour in the operation and to aid his recovery, he was promoted and is now the prefect of police on Martinique. Patrolling a tropical paradise. Ha! Nice work if it is available._"

Black turned to Harry. "I don't know how much of this you just caught, but the guy that Moody suggested I contact, a senior gendarme I worked with many years ago, is no longer here. Crap! Do you know anyone in France we might contact?"

Harry thought for a minute, and said "The only French people I know are the students from Beauxbatons school who were at Hogwarts last year. I guess the only ones I really know at all would be Fleur Delacour and her sister Gabrielle. Fleur was the Beauxbatons champion in the Tri-Wizards tournament."

Thibeault blanched a bit as he caught the names Harry mentioned. Defense looked at him and nodded. "_This certainly changes things a bit."_

Turning to Sirius and Harry, he said "_I must contact my superiors in Paris in order to initiate your request for political asylum. The names you have mentioned may promote the chances that this will be granted quickly. I do not know if you realise it, or the ladies you mentioned spoke of it, but their father, General Delacour, is a man of some influence. Please gentlemen, sit and I will make the floo call. May I offer you some coffee, tea, butterbeer?_"

With this, Sirius' eyes sparkled. "_I have not had a cold French butterbeer in fifteen years. I accept your offer with great thanks._" Harry nodded as well.

Defense turned to his subordinate, and said "_Michel, my old, perhaps you would like to discuss quidditch with Monsieur Potter while I go be 'official'?"_

With this, he went over to the office's floo, and initiated his call. "_Allo' Bertrand, here it's Henri Defense at the Calais office. Yes, the weather is good. Are you and Giselle coming down for the fishing this year? Splendid._"

"_Bertrand, we have a situation here, and I need to get in touch with Commander Richard in Diplomatic Affairs. No, nobody killed. No Russians smuggling caviar into England, unfortunately – yes it was rather nice that some of the contraband had to be confiscated for testing of the quality. We have a couple of British refugees. Yes, I agree it is strange, but it is true. One is an escaped convict named Sirius Black, yes that's the one, and the other is Harry Potter. Yes, Harry Potter, the Tri-Wizard Champion. Yes, it is him, Michel recognised him from his magazines. You know what a quidditch nut he is. Of accord, of accord." _

"_Black says he was an auror, and he knew Capitan Lelapin's nickname –I think he is what he says and apparently he has been here before, because they landed just outside our door. Just outside, right in front of the door, in spite of it being disillusioned. Exactly! No, not brooms, they arrived on a hippogriff. Yes, a hippogriff, a truly magnificent creature, about two metres high at the shoulder. Just a minute, I'll look. Oh. It's prowling around the carpark, and looks like it's hunting - ah, it looks like he caught a rat, or a cat. Something furry and small, anyway. I wouldn't want to be Jacques tonight if we hadn't moved him inside – oh, he's that old drunk that sleeps it off outside in good weather, but they predicted rain so we moved him into one of the cells. He's an old veteran of Algeria who sought refuge in a cognac bottle too many years ago."_

"_Anyway, Potter says the only French people he knows are Fleur Delacour and her younger sister. Yes. The daughters of the Commissioner. Yes. They are requesting political asylum. You see my problem. Also, the older man, Black, requested that they be questioned with Veritaserum and his words recorded with a witness pensieve. Yes, I feel the same. There is something very serious and kind of strange going on here. This one is __**way**__ above my paygrade to handle." _

"_Bertrand, can you please start the ball rolling on the asylum paperwork, and let the appropriate departments know it's coming? Wonderful. Yes, we will hold them here until you get something going there. Thanks, Bertrand, and we'll see you next month._"


	3. Connections

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Chapter 3 Connections**

**A/N:** Same rule about italics as above. The 'Bureau pour Voir L'Avenir' (BVA, or the 'Office to See the Future') is the branch of the Gendarmerie Magique (GM) in charge of clairvoyance – possibly due to the genetic imperative of mothers to carry and then protect their children, most clairvoyants and seers are female.

'La Manche' (The Sleeve) is the French term for what the English jingoistically call the 'English' Channel.

Harry Potter and Michel Thibeault had been chatting about quidditch for a couple hours. Sergeant Thibeault had been at the World Cup in England, and they compared notes on the teams they had seen play, and the massive disruption caused when the Death Eaters ransacked the camp. Both had been puzzled at the lack of official response to the vandalism and discussed various conspiracy theories that were floating around.

It was almost seven in the morning when the office floo blazed bright green, and a tall older man in uniform stepped out of it. His kepi bore two stars, and the service ribbons on the left side of his uniform jacket was seven rows long.

Both the Calais officers snapped to attention with sharp salutes.

"_Monsieur The Commissioner! This is a surprise. A pleasant surprise! Sir!_" snapped out Lieutenant Defense.

General Delacour returned the salute, and smiled. "_Relax, boys. I was told you have some visitors._"

Lt. Defense cringed a bit. "_We did not mean to disturb you, nor require you to come here to our office yourself, Sir. Certainly not at this early hour of the morning_."

Delacour smiled again. "_Defense, please relax, my boy. You have done absolutely nothing wrong. In fact, you did things very well, and you did not disturb me at all. You followed correct procedure and your actions were exemplary. The girls in the BVA have been telling me for the last month that an event would occur early this morning on the coast of La Manche which would have personal implications and some political importance, so I had prepared to come to wherever I would be needed. Over the years, I have learned to ignore their warnings at my peril – if nothing else because my daughter Sophie works in that department and would give me hell. So, what is the matter here._"

Lieutenant Defense sighed, and his stiff shoulders relaxed.

"_Monsieur, we have two visitors, who are requesting political asylum. One is the Hogwarts' Tri-Wizard champion, Harry Potter, and apparently an acquaintance of two of your daughters. The other is an escaped convict from Azkaban, who claims to be an ex-auror who was wrongfully imprisoned without trial – the English have issued a 'Kiss on capture' order for him. They, the visitors not the English, strongly request interrogation under veritaserum and the use of a witness pensieve. From our initial questioning, their stories check out. If true, it looks like the Brits are trying to cover up a serious miscarriage of justice."_

"_By the way, they arrived on that hippogriff that is out in the parking lot there." _He pointed out the office window where Buckbeak had just caught another rat.

Delacour nodded and smiled. _ "I see what the BVA folks were on about. Hmm, yes, this one is going to be hot. Very hot! May I meet these escapees, please? Defense, this is your station. Shall we open your potion locker and sign out two doses of veritaserum, and prepare your witness pensieve?"_

Lt. Defense nodded._ "Do you wish to lead this interview?"_

Commissioner Delacour shook his head._ "Lieutenant Defense, you are in charge of this office. You recommended proceeding with their requests for the interview, and I concur. I will be here to help with the more political, and yes, personal aspects, but it is your show." _He knew that a good commander did not undermine his subordinates, and certainly not on their own turf.

Defense smiled as this indicated strongly that 'The Boss' had confidence in his abilities and judgement – always a good thing. However, it was also very clear to him that, with his boss's boss's boss in attendance, the correct questions would need to get asked, and that he had better be the one to ask them.

Delacour then turned to Sergeant Thibeault. "_Sergeant… Thibeault is it? Yes. Good. You seem to have established a rapport with the boy. This may prove useful. If it is acceptable with the good Lieutenant Defense, please join us in the interview room. The experience may prove useful in the future._"

Sergeant Thibeault immediately agreed, while trying to hide his widening smile. To have the Commissioner know his name was a good sign, although it could just indicate that the superior officer had been briefed on the local staff. To say he had done a good thing was a better thing, and to invite him to participate in the interrogation of the asylum seekers was an extremely good thing. But commenting that it could prove useful in his future career implied he would have one, and it could be a very good one at that. Perhaps, soon, he would be able to afford that new Renault minivan that Françoise was coveting, now that Catherine had blessed them with three grandchildren.

As the three officers entered the interview room where Harry and Sirius were waiting, the two Englishmen stiffened. It was obvious that the older officer was of very senior rank (even though he had left his uniform hat and jacket in the man office, so his rank was not so apparent). If his rank was senior enough, it could mean that it was decided that they were politically unacceptable to the French and could be sent back to who knew what – Azkaban, at best.

After Lt. Defense introduced the commissioner, the elder gendarme said, in unaccented English (at least to English ears, as he spoke with a cultured London accent) "Mr. Potter, you may not remember me, but I was at your school for the tasks of the Tri-Wizard tournament, as my daughter Fleur was the Beauxbatons' champion. The request of you and your godfather for asylum has some political implications which may cause some problems and therefore requires the attendance of a senior officer, but I feel that my family owes you, at the very least, the courtesy of hearing your story and lending what assistance I can, within the limitations of our laws of course. As you are no doubt aware, you are now on French soil and under French jurisdiction, not British."

Harry looked surprised, and a bit relieved at this clear statement of which country was in charge here. He said, "Sir, I don't think your family owes me anything. I just did what anyone would do."

Andre Delacour shook his head. "Mr. Potter, I wish that that were true, but the truth is that most people would not have rescued my youngest daughter from the mermen, nor summoned aid when Fleur was critically injured in the last task. Most would look after their own interest to the exclusion of others. You did not, and for that, I thank you. If that was the only reason for my presence, it would be enough."

"However, at the end of the last tasks, when you returned from wherever it was with the body of that other boy, I witnessed the most disturbing actions of your Ministry of Magic. Or should I say, the inactions of the Minister. I have also been following his attempts to discredit you in the press. There is something going on with which my government is most unhappy, and it is my assigned task to discover the truth of the matter. Consequently, we will proceed as your godfather has requested."

Turning to Lt. Defence, the general said "_Monsieur Defense, it is your show. Please proceed._"

Ellie Granger found a letter in their mailbox, bearing an official looking postmark from Paris. As the family was preparing for a short vacation in the south of France before Hermione had to return to her boarding school, she was concerned that there was going to be some problem with their reservations at the resort, but if that was the case there should have been a note from the booking agency in Toulon, and there was no reason at all for a letter from Paris.

With some trepidation, she opened the envelope, and found that the letter was written on parchment. Hermione had told her family that the wizarding world seemed stuck on using quills and parchment instead of paper and pens, so it seemed evident that the letter was from someone more of her daughter's new world than of her own. Making this relatively obvious deduction, she called Hermione to ask her opinion. Hermione replied (in a rather strained voice, to Ellie's experienced ear) she would come in a minute after she finished what she was doing, so Ellie read the letter. She was surprised, to say the least, with its contents. It read:

My dear Mrs. (Dr.) Granger,

We have not met, but last year two of my daughters attended Hogwarts. Fleur was very impressed with Hermione's efforts at making the Beauxbatons students welcome, and her inclusion of the visiting students in her study groups.

I have become aware that you are preparing to visit the south of France in the near future, before Hermione returns to school. I would like to offer you our hospitality, should you be in our vicinity. Our home is located about one hour's drive northeast of Marseilles.

My knowledge of your plans comes from one of your daughter's friends. He has asked me to tell you that his situation is not grim, but there are people who will tell 'shaggy dog stories' about him. I must confess I do not understand this reference, but he assures me that Hermione will know what he means.

We look forward to seeing you if it works with your plans.

With our regards,

Simone Delacour

When Hermione finally entered the room, she was in obvious distress, and looked like she was either going to burst into tears, or throw up, or both. Ellie passed the note to her, and received another parchment from her daughter. The girl said haltingly "I just received this from a strange owl that I have never seen before. I really thought Harry liked me." Ellie took the parchment note from her. The one Hermione had received read:

Hermione,

I am not going to tell you where I am, because I cannot trust you. I had thought you were my best friend! I had looked forward to returning to Hogwarts, where we have always been safe, and listening to the magnificent lectures from our beloved Professor Snape and enjoy the company of all the wonderful students in his House. Things were going so wonderfully this summer, but my godfather, who as you know betrayed my parents, has kidnapped me. It seems he made arrangements with my loving family who provided him the money to travel. Things look very grim at the moment. I hope he is taking me somewhere where they speak English, as I am pants at languages and he is even worse.

There are people who will likely want to ask you questions about me, and I cannot trust you to keep your mouth shut, unlike Ron who has always been very discrete. He supported me all last year during the Tournament, while you betrayed me. I will not forget that, as I value loyalty above all else.

I hope I never see you again.

Harry

Hermione looked at her mother and started to bawl. "I really thought he liked me. I didn't betray him last year. Ron did!"

Ellie looked at Hermione, and said "Hermione, stop that. You are smarter than that. Don't you see what this is?"

The girl shook her head, spraying her tears around. "He hates me!"

Ellie shook her head. "Smarten up, girl. You said Snape was a bully and an idiot, and you all hated him. And you said his family was terrible, and the students in Snape's House were nasty and barely less than criminals." The young witch nodded, but looked puzzled at her mother's direction of thought.

Ellie continued. "And I don't think I ever heard you describe Ron as 'discrete!" At this Hermione started to smile a bit, as she began to see where her mother was going with it.

"I think that Harry strongly suspected that that owl might get intercepted. He is saying he really values your loyalty to him, and he trusts you, but there are people out there who might want to ask you where he is. People he doesn't trust in the slightest. So he writes a letter which is all backwards so that if someone else sees it, someone who doesn't really know him or you, you can't be held responsible."

"There has been something strange going on, and Harry is very unhappy about it. The term 'grim' is used in both letters, with the one implying that you would understand the reference." Hermione explained about Sirius' animagus form.

Ellie, grimaced at this explanation, and started to look very worried. "May I suggest that we move up our holiday plans a bit? Like, tomorrow, or as soon as possible?"

"Unless I am very much mistaken, Harry is saying that he and his godfather have fled England, and I get the feeling he is suggesting we do the same. Take a look at this letter I received. I think you told me that the Delacours were well-connected. I think Harry has found some powerful friends. And I think we will see your friend very soon."

Ellie looked at Hermione with a non-plussed and somewhat frightened expression. "I think I should not have told you my suspicions. No, I should not have said anything. Okay girl, what are you giggling about now?"

Hermione explained about Hagrid's complete inability to keep a secret, and that her mother had just used a very close approximation of his 'favourite' phrase.

After joining her daughter in the giggles, Ellie added in a much more sombre way, "Unless I am very wrong, Harry suspects that someone is going to try to ask you some pointed and possibly unpleasant questions about his whereabouts, and ask them in a way that you may not be able to resist. From what you have been telling me about the way the newspaper is trying to discredit him and your Headmaster, I don't think they are going to bother staying on the right side of the law about this. Hopefully, they did intercept the letter, and bought Harry's misdirection, but I wouldn't want to bet my life or yours on it. Hermione, I'm going to call your Dad at work, and see if we can move our trip up a bit."


	4. Annoyance

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Chapter 4: Annoyance**

Delores Umbridge was furious. Somehow, the brat had escaped her plan, and her beloved Tom was irate.

As a student at Hogwarts, she had been a very plain of face and a bit chubby but with a very well developed figure, and had found that sex was a very effective way to gain the 'popularity' that otherwise eluded her. By the time she was fifteen, she was adept at the contraceptive charms and potions, as well as numerous abortion spells. She had lured in other students (male and female) who had a gross sense of entitlement, low morals and fewer scruples (most of whom had naturally been sorted into Slytherin House, given what it had become over the years) and in due course, they found that at vulnerable moments she had planted a subtle but pervasive compulsion charm of her own invention which in time made them virtual slaves – not quite the Imperius, but close enough to be quite effective.

She had been the first woman that Tom Riddle had ever slept with, when she first seduced him in her seventh year at Hogwarts. He had been a third year student, but she could already see the potential for greatness and that his lust for power was as great, or even greater, than her own. She was also the only one of his followers who knew his birth name, and was allowed to address him by it.

In later years, Tom had had other young women, as power is said to be the ultimate aphrodisiac. Few came back for a second encounter, because he was violently abusive. Those who did come back for more fell into two types, the masochists and the sado-masochists. The former, he rejected out of hand after their first time together (where is the fun in abusing someone who actually enjoyed it?). The latter, he recruited as followers.

Delores was the only one that could be said to have 'made love' with him. The two of them soon found that their lust for power was far more important to them than their more physical drives. As he turned more and more to the Dark Magics, she had not followed in his technical studies, but turned more to the political side of the wizarding world.

Once she left Hogwarts and the need to climb multiple flights of stairs many times a day, and started worked at the Ministry taking the floos and the lifts, what had been a propensity to chubbiness became all-out obesity. This, combined with years of malice, turned her into the ugly horror she had become.

When necessary, she slept with the powerful wizards in the Ministry, and then blackmailed them into assisting her advancement. As she had told Tom when they discussed tactics and strategies, opening her legs opened doors. As the years passed, she still found that she could use sex to further advance her place at the Ministry, but more and more, this was done under subdued lighting.

When she and Tom had talked about their plans to take over the world, he had explained his discovery of the leech charm which would steal magical power from the bearers. She had pointed out that branding his followers with such a mark would be the ultimate abuse of the pure-blood bigots who were gradually becoming his chief minions. His half-blood status, if known to them, would have driven them away in disgust, but marking them in such a way that they were permanently bound to him and would also reinforce his own power at their expense, would be an exquisite way to express his contempt for them personally, their attitudes and everything they stood for. Even when those attitudes would serve his purposes very well. The power was to be his, not theirs.

Her pushing through the passage of the anti-werewolf laws was a stroke of genius. It bolstered her position as a champion of pure-blood rights, reinforcing the bigotry of the Wizengamot, and undermining any attempt by law-abiding werewolves (really the ultimate victims) to better their lot. As a matter of their own survival, it pushed the werewolf population into Voldemort's waiting and welcoming arms, out of sheer desperation.

She and Tom found that their interests complemented each other's desires and needs, and they were allies more than lovers. When Tom became Lord Voldemort, Delores never took the Dark Mark (as he called it) of his servants, but did indulge in a discreet tattoo in a location where he was the only one who ever saw it. She knew that, until he had attained his 'true' position in their world, wearing the Mark could hold her back from attaining her position beside him. Until that time, she worked behind the scenes, flattering and scheming (and screwing) as she consolidated her power in the Ministry until she was second only to the fool who sat in the Minister's office.

She became well known, in certain circles, for knowing 'where the bodies were buried', often because she was the one who had buried them. Those who assisted her were 'rewarded', and those who crossed her were destroyed.

And now Potter had escaped her clutches.

Voldemort insisted that he be the one to finally kill the boy who had somehow escaped his killing curse years before, and his machinations year after year. When he and Delores formulated the plan to send the dementors to Little Whinging, they had laughed about the fact that Harry did not require his soul for the final execution, as long as the body was still warm.

And Potter had escaped her clutches. And Tom was very unhappy about it.

And worse, Potter had disappeared, possibly even leaving England entirely because her tracking devices at the Ministry could not locate him. She had sent some aurors over to France to look for him there, but strangely enough, they had been kicked out of the country. After that happened, Tom had sent a team of Death Eaters over to find Potter and to let the French know who was really in charge, but they had vanished without a trace and even sending a recall order through the Dark Mark had no response.

Delores decided that the matter needed her personal attention. She did not get out of the Ministry building often, but obviously her subordinates were incompetent, and she needed to bring her skills (and her proficiency with mind-reading and Imperius charms) to bear.

Delores knew that when Voldemort's other minions displeased him, they suffered. And suffered. And then suffered some more! She also knew that he did not dare hurt her physically, because he needed her influence behind the scenes, while Lucius Malfoy played the more public lobbyist. Should the Ministry, by some highly unlikely event, become less corrupt and Lucius' activities meet with official displeasure and he became a target of the do-gooders, Delores would be hidden in the background making sure that things progressed as they should.

She needed to find Potter. She summoned her Ministry passport, and booked an international floo journey.

Lucius Malfoy noted that, when Madame Umbridge left the Ministry building, the whole place seemed to give a sigh of relief, but just thought this was because the vicious bitch was out of earshot. He never understood her true power.

Malfoy had always known that his Dark Lord had other servants or contacts within the Ministry, and he had tried to discover them during the years when Voldemort was discorporate. He had wanted to make sure that, if the Dark Lord had been truly vanquished, he could use these resources to his own advantage. If he could not turn them to his benefit, he would eliminate them. Lucius knew about Hieronymus Yaxley and his function in the DMLE, but knew the man did not have the capacity for the long-term very deep cover that Malfoy knew had to be in action – the man was just too impatient for it.

However, for all his scheming, he had been unable to discover Delores' true allegiance and function – to him, she was just another power-hungry Ministry hack among many, and being female and ugly, not at all worthy of his consideration. Being a generation younger than her, he had not been trapped in her web, although he had all the personal failings that she had normally preyed upon.

Delores Umbridge awoke sitting in a darkened room, feeling like her head was enclosed in some kind of bubble. She grabbed for her wand, but found nothing. She reached for her hidden portkeys (some in intimate locations) and found none. She started to panic. She had not felt this helpless since she was nine years old – she was always the one in control!

A cultured voice with a London accent spoke.

"Ah, Madame Umbridge. Awake at last. I suppose that taking six simultaneous stunners when you tried to use the Imperius curse on my gendarmes would take a while to wear off. In a way, I should thank you for making my job that much easier – you see, attacking a national police officer with an unforgivable is an offense under our National Security Act, and we take national security very seriously."

"I am afraid that you have committed the most fundamental error in the intelligence, or shall we be honest, the espionage business. You have assumed that you are more clever than anyone else anywhere. I must admit that you are probably more intelligent than me, which is why I am an administrator and not an agent. However, the magical arm of our 'Deuxieme Bureau' has some extremely bright people – I guess when you have been at war off and on for two thousand years or so since the Romans wandering through raping and pillaging, you pay attention to these things. Anyway, Office 2¾ has been watching you and your subversion of the British magical population for some time."

"When you sent your aurors over here to conduct illegal searches, without permission from our Ministry, and I might say in violation of several treaties between our two countries, they were unceremonially sent home without their wands."

"When your self-styled Lord Voldemort sent his minions over and they started using unforgivable curses on our people, we moved to apprehend them. When they tried to use the killing curse, they were executed on the spot. You see, we take the unforgivable curses much more seriously than your Ministry seems to, especially under your own guidance and that of your Mr. Malfoy. Where you use spell-tracking devices to harass underage muggle-born witches and wizards, we use them to track unforgivables. Your Death Eaters were not very discrete in their use."

"When you arrived, carrying an illegal locator device and several unregistered and untrackable wands, you presented a passport which you claimed gave you diplomatic immunity and exemption from inspection. However, magical passports issued by the ICW show the intent of the bearer when read by the appropriate authorities, and yours showed that your intent was an illegal abduction. When refused entry, you tried to seize mental control of my officers, and that is why you are here now."

Delores started to scream "You can't do this to me. I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. I will have you fired and sent to Azkaban!" Her voice sounded odd with her head surrounded by whatever it was.

The voice sounded like the owner was smiling. "You forget yourself, Madame. You are a felon who committed acts endangering our national security. You lied to our National Gendarmes, and tried to prevent them from carrying out their sworn duties, by the use of illegal means. You. Have. No. Authority. Here. And we have our own equivalent of your Azkaban."

"As I said earlier, your actions made my job much easier. When dealing with a threat to national security, we are not bound by the normal legal limitation of three drops of veritaserum, and you were given a dose of twelve drops, twice. We now know all the subterfuges which you have in place in the British Ministry, and all the plans that your Tom Riddle and you have cooked up. We know the names, we know the places, we know your safe houses. And we know you for what you truly are, and we are sharing this information with our allies."

"We also now are aware of your skills with wandless magic, your abilities with legimancy, and your tattoo which allows you to communicate with your Dark Lord telepathically. That is why the rooms along this hallway has been shielded to prevent accidental or wandless magic, and any telepathic contact. I assure you, you are now quite isolated."

The voice sounded like the owner was rising to his feet, and moving across the room. It sounded to Delores that a door was being opened.

The voice continued. "We have provided you with some reading material so that you have some way to pass the time. You are going to be here for quite a while. I can recommend the writings of Alexandre Dumas to your attention. He was one of ours, and his stories occasionally touch on what might be thought of as sensitive matters, even though his writings were 'approved' after some careful editting."

Delores streaked, "Why would I want to read anything by some Frog writer?"

The voice responded. "Ah, the arrogance of entitlement. A common flaw with the British upper classes, and more especially, the English pure-blood wizarding community. I suggest Dumas as it may shed some light on your current whereabouts, and your current fashion accessory. You and your Lord Voldemort seem very fond of masks. Farewell, Madame Umbridge."

The door closed behind him, and his footsteps could be heard walking away down a stone floor.

Delores' screams of rage and demands for release went unanswered, and in all likelihood, were completely unheard.


	5. Revelation and Extraction

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Chapter 5: Revelation and Extraction**

Harry Potter entered the foyer of Le Banque Gringott. He was very nervous, as this was his first real opportunity to make a total mess of the French language in a very public setting. He also knew that goblins were a very touchy bunch who could be insulted easily. One might say they had a chip on their collective shoulders when dealing with wizards, which made him wonder why they worked in a business that required them to put up with magical humans on a daily basis.

He walked across the large and ornately decorated lobby, followed closely by his godfather who was keeping a wary eye on everyone around them. Harry might be in danger of abduction, but Sirius was in danger of being handed over to the dementors.

Harry moved to the reception desk, and in very badly pronounced French said "Pardonnez moi, monsieur."

The goblin looked up in surprise. "_You called me Sir. You must be a very strange wizard_."

Sirius turned to Harry and explained "He is surprised you called him Sir. Not many wizards would do that. He thinks you're a bit strange."

The goblin looked even more surprised, and spoke in English. "Ah, you are English. In that case, you are very strange wizards, because the English do not usually speak to goblins with the courtesy. And, Monsieur, I see you understand our language well. How may I help you today?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "I wonder if it is possible to get money from my vault in London, through this office. I have no way of returning to London to access my vault."

The goblin looked at Harry with some suspicion, and made a subtle gesture to one of the guards. The guard looked at the two wizards carefully, and went into an antechamber. He soon returned with a relaxed face, and came up to the reception desk accompanied by a goblin in a more ornate uniform. To the receptionist, the apparently more senior spoke in the goblin language, saying "These are the two we were told about. I will look after it. You have done your task adequately.

The receptionist relaxed visibly. To be told by a superior goblin that you had performed your work adequately was praise, and an indication that you would see another sunrise, as reprimands had dire consequences.

Turning to Harry and Sirius, he said in English, "Gentlemen, if you will follow me please? We were advised to expect you."

Harry looked at Sirius in panic. "They found us."

The goblin smiled. "Mr. Potter, our information came from French sources. I can assure you that you are quite safe from the English authorities here. In fact, had you gone to Gringott's in London, you could have found sanctuary there as well."

Turning to Sirius, he nodded and said, "Mr. Black, we have looked into your accusations of malfeance on the part of the British Ministry, and find your claims justified. My superior is expected to present you with good news."

He ushered them into an office decorated with bars of gold and silver, as well as various weapons. The blades appeared discoloured, and Sirius went over to look at one. He shuddered, and muttered under his breath "I was taught to clean the blood off my weapons before putting them on display."

They heard a laugh from a door at the back of the office, and a goblin in yet more ornate clothing entered the room. "Mr. Black, you see that our customs differ in that regard. My people leave the blood on the blades to demonstrate that they are not just showpieces."

The goblin, dressed in the height of ornatitudeness, nodded to the two, and gestured to two bricks on a side table, each with a golden dagger in front of it. The bricks looked like they were made of lead, and had a slight depression in the top.

The goblin spoke again. "Mr. Black, I am informed that you had participated in this ritual, but I doubt that your young charge has done so. Please proceed." His face took on a seriousness showing that this was a very serious stage of the business at hand.

Sirius looked at Harry. "Before the goblins will allow any discussion of money or inheritances, they require absolute surety of identity. These so-called 'blood-stones' determine if you are who you say you are. There have been many instances where wizards have tried to claim money that is not their own, sometimes polyjuiced to look like the real people, and this prevents it. In my case, I am probably in their records, but I doubt that you are. They will have charmed the stones to test your descent from your parents."

Speaking to Harry in a whisper, he added, "I assume that my ability to describe the ritual to you is part of the test. I should also point out that those who fail this test do not get to leave the office alive. So it is very fortunate that we are who we say we are."

Turing to the goblin, he asked "Does it matter which stone I use?" The goblin shook his head

Taking the dagger in front of one of the stones, Sirius said to Harry, "Take the dagger in front of the stone, and prick the middle finger on your left hand. You might assume that most people would prick their thumbs. Bad mistake." Harry took up the dagger in front of the other stone and did this as Sirius performed this part of the ritual.

The elder wizard then said, "Now, squeeze out three drops of blood and drip them into the depression in the top of the stone."

Harry followed these instructions, then watched in amazement as Sirius' stone instantly turned to gold. His stone fluctuated back-and-forth between the lead colour and gold for a minute, and then settled on gold.

The goblin smiled. "Welcome to Gringott's of Paris, Mr. Black and Mr. Potter. As you can see, it took a moment for Mr. Potter's blood to be recognised as the legitimate heir of his parents, through their own records which are in Gringott's files. Mr. Potter, you will now be recognised in any branch of the Bank anywhere in the world."

"I am Grishnak, manager of the French branches of Gringott's Bank. I have spoken to my cousin Ragnok, in London, and he has commented that young Mr. Potter was most unusual, in that he wished to know the name of the goblin who served him. Courtesy and respect are returned where they are shown. Most wizards show us no respect, and that disrespect is also returned to them in kind. The Potter family has been known for centuries as being a respectful line, although I have to say, Mr. Black, that the same cannot be said for some of your ancestors"

At that moment, the brick that Harry had used started flashing between gold and black, and a siren sounded. The guards standing by the door tensed up and brought their weapons to a ready position. Grishnak held up a hand, telling them to hold off, and looked at Harry carefully, staring at his scar, then turned and barked something to one of the guards.

Harry had turned very pale. Grishnak turned to him, and said softly "It seems you have an uninvited guest with you. Don't worry, the stone accepts you as the rightful Potter heir, so be calm, but there is something else there as well. This must be investigated."

The guard bowed, and left the room quickly. He returned soon with another goblin who was not in office finery, but in what looked like medical or healer garb. The new goblin looked at Harry closely, and then look at his scar. He took out an instrument that looked like a pocket lens and examined the scar. Turning to Grishnak, he spoke rapidly in the Goblinish, and Harry thought he heard the name 'Weasley' spoken.

Grishnak nodded as if to concur with the medical (?) goblin's assessment, and the medic (for that is what he was) went to a communications device and spoke rapidly. Again Harry thought he heard the name 'Weasley'.

Grishnak gestured to chairs, and said "This will take a short while as we get the curse breaker to the office. I offer tea, or would you prefer butterbeer while we wait."

Harry accepted the tea, as he felt he needed a bit of comfort and stimulation, as neither he nor Sirius knew what was happening. Whatever it was, it was certainly very important to the goblins. Why a curse breaker was required was a mystery. Particularly for what had been intended to be a simple withdrawal of some pocket money.

After about half of a very nerve-wracking hour, a tall red-headed human entered the room carrying a toolbox, and bowed to Grishnak. Words were rapidly exchanged, with Grishnak pointing towards Harry. The tall man smiled and nodded, responding in the goblin tongue.

The man looked familiar to Harry, but a bit unfamiliar at the same time. Somehow, it seemed the wrong place to be, in order to be familiar; Harry just couldn't place him. He wore his long red hair tied back in a pony-tail, and had a large fang dangling from one ear.

The man turned to Harry and held out his hand. He said, "Hi Harry. You may not recall, but I'm Bill Weasley. I have heard about you for years from my brothers, and sister and my mother, and we met last year. It's great to see you again. However, it seems you have a bit of a problem, which has my bosses rather puzzled. A puzzled goblin is not a happy goblin, so I was called in to see what is going on."

He approached Harry and stared at his scar. Taking out an odd device from his toolkit, he examined the scar more closely, and then turned to Grishnak and spoke quickly. The manager went to his desk and placed another call, and another goblin soon entered.

Bill turned to Harry and said, "You've got a weird sort-of parasite in that scar of yours. I've seen a couple of that kind of thing attached to rare objects, and heard of others, but I've never actually seen one on a living person before. It's kind of like a leech charm, which would drain your magical power a bit, but this one is different, and very rare."

Harry asked, "You say it is a leech. Does that mean it is hurting me?"

Bill smiled. "Well, I can guarantee it's not doing you any good! This is something that I have seen in old Egyptian documents and tombs – the old Egyptians were obsessed with Death and Immortality. Harry, I have to ask, have you ever been near someone being killed?"

Harry blanched. "Last year, Cedric Diggory was murdered right beside me."

Weasley shook his head. "I do know you have had that scar for longer than that. I remember hearing stories about you and your famous scar for years, even before we met. My mother used to read stories about you to my little sister, who I think fell in love with the Boy-Who-Lived before she was out of her nappies. Or rather, Mum taught her to be in love with the BWL. Sorry about that – I know you hate the term and your fame, even if my youngest brother seems jealous of you. More to the point, when precisely did you get that scar?"

Harry looked shocked. "I've always had this scar, I think. As long as I can remember, anyway. I have been told I was there when Voldemort murdered my mother. Is that what you mean?"

Bill Weasley looked at Grishnak, and nodded. They spoke quickly in Goblinish, then Bill turned to Harry and said, "This is worse than we had originally thought, but there have been some speculation on this point in 'the trade', ever since Ginny got that cursed diary that you destroyed. Thanks for doing that, by the way."

Harry said, "I thought that incident with the diary was a big secret!"

The red-headed wizard nodded. "It's not widely known outside a small specialised circle, which I happen to be part of because it touches on my work for Gringott's"

"Harry, your scar is a Horcrux, also called a 'soul-anchor'. Back in the day, high-class Egyptians used to create them to try to avoid death – they were terrified of it. The problem is that they can be created only by murdering someone – they're really dark magic. Making one rips your soul into pieces, and you can't be killed completely as long as your horcrux exists. The reason Voldemort continued after you survived his killing curse is because of his horcruxes. To get rid of him, we have to get rid of them."

"Among us curse-breakers, we have discussed the likelihood that he created a lot of them. His name means 'Flies from Death' and it is thought that he is trying to become immortal."

Harry and Sirius both gasped at this revelation, although Grishnak just nodded grimly.

Bill continued. ""We also have discussed that the reason you survived his killing curse was that his soul was not sufficiently intact by that point to cast it with enough power – the fact that your mother was killed just before that was thought to contradict that, but if killing her created the horcrux that is now in your scar, that might have been what dropped his soul's power just below the threshold of what was needed for the spell. Note that when you attended his resurrection, he had his servant Pettigrew kill Mr. Diggory. It was only once he had a group of his followers there, all feeding their power into him, that he tried to kill you himself."

Seeing their horrified faces, he added, "Sorry about that. Talking about this kind of stuff is a bit of an occupational hazard for guys in my business. Anyway, it has been suspected that Voldemort had created the diary as a Horcrux, because the image of him you saw would be consistent with the time that Myrtle Green was killed at Hogwarts. Whether the one you carry was created intentionally, or accidentally, when he murdered your mother is a question, but also a moot point at this moment. It exists now, and is sustaining itself by draining some of your magic."

Gesturing to the goblin who had just entered the room, Bill said, "I'm going to remove it, but I have requested the presence of a soul-catcher. Clawhand here, on top of being a first-rate curse-breaker, is also a top notch soul-catcher, which is a rare specialty even within the curse-breaking community. Whatever form the soul fragment is in, we definitely do not want it to get loose. We are going to trap it, and destroy it. Now, the ritual may hurt a bit, but you will be magically stronger after we are done."

Sirius spoke up at this point. "Bill, I gather that you get into some pretty lethal curses and wards, in your work." Bill nodded with a grim countenance.

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "Does that mean you know how to cast the same spells?"

Bill nodded. "To get through them, you have to know how they're put together, so yeah. I know how to cast them. Why do you ask?"

Sirius said quietly, "Just a thought, but that might be a very useful skill to have at our disposal in getting rid of Voldemort for good."


	6. Allies

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Chapter 6: Allies**

Harry and Sirius sat in Grishnak's private office in the lower levels of _Le Banque Gringott de Paris. _ Harry was resting after having the horcrux in his scar removed, and Voldemort's soul-fragment destroyed. A re-test of his blood showed that the bloodstone (and hence Gringott's) accepted him as the true Potter heir, and that the 'extra' presence was gone.

Bill Wesley and the goblin soul-catcher remained in the room with them.

The manager of the Paris branch of the goblin's bank had just explained to them that Gringott's had been the final arbiter of wizarding inheritances and family lines for many centuries, so from this point there could be no disputes or counterclaims by so-called distant relatives.

He also noted that, similar to very old customs, conviction and imprisonment for major crimes did not alter inheritance rights in any significant way. Smiling in the manner that would frighten small children, he also noted that Sirius' imprisonment for murder had been noted and confirmed by the goblins as a complete fraud, but as it dealt with wizarding politics, they had originally felt that it was none of their business. As he pointed out, the goblins' credo was that wizards come and go, dark lords come and go, even old families come and go, but gold lasts.

As it now became apparent that Harry had been kept completely unaware of the wizarding inheritance laws, and had never been told the terms of his parents' wills, the goblins saw that there was some serious skulduggery being committed related to inheritances and funds, and to them this was intolerable. There were people, goblin and human, who were going to experience consequences.

Grishnak pointed out that to the goblins, Sirius was the Head of the Black family. Under goblin law, Sirius was a direct descendant of the previous family Head, and his disinheritance would only stand if there was another direct descendant to challenge for the title. As there was none, Sirius was 'It'.

Sirius and Harry had originally come to visit Gringott's (Parisian branch) to see if they could access Harry's vault in London, through the Paris branch. It was now explained to them that, as Harry was the Head Presumptive of the Potter family, he could access his money through whatever branch was most convenient. Upon either his majority or emancipation, he would become the Head of the family, and could access other family vaults as well. This was the first Harry had ever been told that there were other vaults.

As they sat and Harry recovered his strength, Sirius and Grishnak discussed the issue of Voldemort's quest to take over England. Grishnak pointed out that the conquest of the island nation was only his first step, if his information was correct.

This revelation came as a surprise to the elder wizard, who asked where this information came from, and would it be possible to arrange a meeting with the people involved.

The goblin smiles, and said "I suspected that you would be asking something like that, and I have arranged for some people to arrive in a few minutes. I believe it is a truism in muggle commerce that business is just war on another battlefield. They must have got it from us, because this is just a basic fact of life in my world. What you would call a business meeting, in our language, it translates as a council of war. I think that, in this case, it is a more appropriate term for our upcoming meeting. You will have noticed that I had Mr. Weasley and Clawhand stay – I suspect their input may be valuable."

A few moments later, a number of people entered the office, and a goblin (apparently of a lower rank) opened a partition connecting the office to a larger conference room. Among the people were General Delacour (in uniform this time), an older witch with strawberry blonde hair who looked a bit familiar to Harry, and to his surprise, Mad-Eye Moody and Professor Dumbledore. Several of the group were wearing dark muggle-type suits with slightly oversized jackets, rather than wizards' robes.

Dumbledore looked quite unhappy.

To Harry's surprise, Dobby and a group of seven other house-elves also joined them in the room. Dobby ran over to Harry and hugged his leg. Harry asked the elf what he was doing there.

Dobby smiled and answered, "Dobby is loyaling Harry Potter Sir. These elves are bound to Hogwarts, and are in danger from bad Riddler. Oldun," gesturing to an elf so old and skin so wrinkled that he made a Shar-Pei look like a military-made bed, "is being last elf who bonded with Old Headmaster Gryffindor. Lucretia, here,", indicating an elderly female elf "was being Helga witch's personal elf – Puff-lady witch was so loyal to Hogwarts, she was made 'Honourary Elf! We be value loyaling. When the two founders died, they passed their elves to Hogwarts. If bad Riddler man is winning, Hogwarts elves who serve the castle are being in danger. We come to help save Hogwarts and Harry Potter Sir."

Harry asked, "Who is this Riddler you speak about?"

He answered for the elves. "Harry, you know that Lord Voldemort's true name was Tom Riddle. He is the bad Riddler."

Grishnak gestured to the group indicating that they should move into the conference room area, and take a seat. Standing at the head of the table, he proceeded to introduce the group, including Ragnok from Gringott's of London, representatives from Group 9 ¾ from the Holy Roman Empire, Bureau 3 3/4 from the Ministry of Magic of the Venetian Republic, and MI 5 ¾ from Britain, and many others. The witch from MI 5 ¾ pointed out that the magical branch of the British Secret Service was in no way connected to the Ministry of Magic, but to the muggle Ministry of Defense.

As each person's affiliation was stated, all ending with the ¾ suffix, Harry groaned loudly. As the group laughed at this, Dumbledore said "Harry, you must know that we hold firmly to tradition in our world."

Signor Primavera of the Venetian Republic added, "Someone back in the Byzantine Empire came up with the ¾ for the magical branches of the government, and I guess it stuck. Tradition may be silly, but, there it is."

Harry asked about the national affiliations. The 'German' laughed. "We at the HRE don't recognise Napoleon's alteration of the organisation of our country, nor the subjugation under the Prussians. Again, tradition. We like it the way it was. In Britain, your reorganization incorporating Scotland was before 1700, so the Ministry reflects that."

The blonde witch smiled at Harry, and said, "I'm Amelia Bones. As you just heard, I am in charge of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in our Ministry. My niece Susan is in your year at Hogwarts. She has spoken highly of you, and I am pleased to finally meet you." Harry returned the greeting and the smile.

Grishnak stood and announced "My friends, to business. I invoke Goblin Secrecy Level 7 for this meeting." A pulse of magic spread through the room, jarring everyone in it.

Harry looked surprised. He asked, "What was this spell?"

Grishnak nodded to him. "This meeting, the matters we are to discuss, and the identities of the people attending must remain secret. The spell imposed a block on anyone revealing what transpires here to anyone but people who have been cleared by this office. Any attempt to do so has consequences." Harry had heard about the 'consequences' of annoying goblins.

Grishnak gestured to Andre Delacour, who stood up. He began, saying, "As some of you may already know, we recently apprehended Delores Umbridge of the British Ministry entering France illegally with intent to kidnap Harry Potter."

At this point Dumbledore shouted, "No. You must release her immediately! I insist as Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. You have to let her go!" He reached into his robes and pulled out a paper bag, taking a candy from it.

Grishnak thrust out his right hand and shouted an incantation in Goblinish. Dumbledore froze in mid movement to get the candy to his mouth. Although the rest of his body was immobile, his eyes flicked back and forth in panic.

Grishnak looked to Bill Weasley, and ordered "Weasley, Clawhand. Now!"

Bill and the goblin took the candies from Dumbledore's hands and put them on the table. The both cast spells over them, and the bag and the candy glowed in various colours. The two nodded to Grishnak, grimly.

Grishnak nodded, and turned to Delacour, saying "It appears your information has proved accurate." Turning back to Bill Weasley, he commanded, "Proceed."

As the redhead murmured incantations and waved his wand around the rigid headmaster, Grishnak explained. "General Delacour's people have questioned Delores Umbridge extensively, and it seems she has been supplying the Professor with his lemon drops for some time, many years in fact since she was a prize-winning potion student and a favourite of the Professor. They have been laced with potions which caused the professor to overlook some details and facts, and prevented him from following up on some inconsistencies, such as Mr. Black's incarceration, and the presence of Death Eaters on Hogwarts Board of Governors and in the Wizengamot. This has subverted Mr. Dumbledore's actions for the better part of fifty years. These compulsions are being removed from the gentleman, as we speak. The lemon drops were also charmed to be extremely addictive, so that Mr. Dumbledore would be forced to continue being dosed with the compulsion potion for years."

As the wizard and the goblin completed their spell-casting, and steam coming off him had ceased, Dumbledore collapsed in his seat in tears, saying "What have I done? What have I done?"

Sirius Black looked at the old man with pity and loathing, and said, "The problem, Headmaster, is that you have done nothing! You let things happen that should not have happened. You allowed Harry to be abused for years by his relatives. You set him up to fight Voldemort, but with absolutely no training – you were setting him up to die! In all the years since Harry weakened Voldemort, you did nothing to capture any Death Eaters, and when they ones that were caught bribed their way out of jail, you did nothing! You were the Chief Warlock, the Supreme Mugwump, and you did nothing!" If Harry had not pushed Sirius' hand down, he would have whipped out his wand and killed Dumbledore on the spot. Several of the goblin guards had been prepared to intervene forcibly if necessary to stop Black – it looked like they might also like to take a swing at Dumbledore themselves.

Delacour continued. "If I may continue? Under questioning, Madame Umbridge told us how she had been controlling things at the Ministry and dosing the Professor for many years. Several high-ranking members of the Ministry and Wizengamot are, or rather were, under her complete control. Her true actions and allegiance were unknown even to the Death Eaters, so that if they were ever questioned under veritaserum, they could reveal nothing."

Dumbledore shook his head in his hands, as he wept. "I am finished", he moaned.

Grishnak smiled. "No, Professor, only your enslavement is finished! You were enslaved through treachery, a process my people know well from dealing with wizards. You are free now to assist us in eliminating this threat to both our peoples. The fact of your potion-enslavement is known only to the people in this room, and as I pointed out earlier, that knowledge is covered by the secrecy I invoked."

Dumbledore looked at the goblin, and asked "Why are you doing this? Goblins have always kept out of wizarding affairs, besides the odd rebellion of course."

As Grishnak snickered, and the group smiled (with a close hand on their wands in case the implied insult gave umbrage), he added, "As I said, we questioned Madame Umbridge extensively, and discovered more of Voldemort's plans. Had he only wanted to take over the British wizarding world, we would have maintained our neutrality in the matter. However, his bigotry is not limited to your first-borns. His plan is to exterminate all non-humans who do not actively assist him, such as the were-creatures and the vampires are doing now. That threat includes my people."

"He wants our power and he wants our vaults. And he wants us dead. This we cannot allow."

Gesturing to the group of influential Europeans, the goblin added, "And once he has conquered Britain, he intends to conquer the rest of the world. This, **they** cannot allow."

Sirius interrupted and asked, "Professor, why didn't you give Harry any training. You claim he has to fight Voldemort, but you were setting him up to die. Why?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I could not figure out any other way. Before Harry was born, there was a prophecy that he and Voldemort could only be killed by the other, and neither could survive while the other lived. Also, that scar Harry carried is a Horcrux, a soul-repository carrying a portion of Voldemort's soul rendering him immortal. The only way to get rid of it is for Harry to die. Nobody knew about this – the knowledge of Horcruxes has been a dark secret for centuries."

Sirius smiled. "In that, Professor, you are wrong. You could not be more wrong. Bill Weasley and Clawhand here just removed the chunk of Voldemort's soul and destroyed it! For all your knowledge and wisdom, the goblins know things that we have forgotten or that have been suppressed."

"Professor, I fear you have come to believe your own legend, that you know things that no one else knows, or can know."

Dumbledore looked at Grishnak. "You knew about the Horcrux?"

The goblin nodded grimly.

Dumbledore added, "But what about the others?"

Grishnak nodded, "They knew about it as well."

Dumbledore shook his head. Pointing at the rest of the people in the room, he said, "I don't mean them! What about the other Horcruxes?"

Harry blanched. "There are more of them? Bill Weasley mentioned a suspicion about that."

Dumbledore nodded. I suspect there are, or rather were, seven. You carried one, the diary was another, and I have been looking for the other five."

Grishnak smiled. He ordered, "Weasley, Clawhand, I have a task for you!" The two curse-breakers smiled and bowed to him. Turning to Dumbledore, he asked, "Professor, I gather you have some idea where the other ones may be hidden?" Dumbledore nodded.

Grishnak bowed to the old wizard, and added, "Sir, we would very much welcome your input. You have been working on this for years, I suspect, and it would help us all to get rid of this threat. Will you assist Clawhand and Weasley, please?"

Dumbledore smiled weakly and nodded. Here was a chance to redeem himself for his numerous failings.

Harry looked at Grishnak. "You said that Umbridge was questioned a lot. Did you torture her? I know Voldemort is known to torture."

Grishnak shook his head. "We do not torture to gain information. We have found it is quite useless to do so, because under torture the subject will tell you anything to make it stop. The quality of the information gained in that manner is negligible. However, for discipline, or just for fun…."

He looked at the horrified look on the faces of the humans, and all the goblins started to laugh. "Just a little goblin humour, my friends."

Turning to General Delacour, the goblin directed, "Sir, please proceed."


	7. Quarantine

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Chapter 7: Quarantine**

Over the next three-quarters of an hour, Delacour detailed what he had discovered, with Umbridge speaking freely for the first time in years. Some of the information horrified the group, and numerous spines were stiffened.

Dumbledore realized that many of those he had hoped to turn from their dark path were truly beyond redemption. The hardest thing for the old man was the news that Voldemort's band of murderers had laughed at his attempts at kindness and mercy. Mercy was not a concept the Death Eaters had any respect for, and saw only as a sign of his weakness.

Grishnak turned serious. "Now, we need to discuss what to do about your Lord Voldemort. I fear that, like the old days when a sailing ship carrying plague was forced to stay out to sea until all the victims of the plaque had died, we need to isolate Britain from the benefits of contact with the outside world until Voldemort and his infection are gone."

Sirius paled, and asked, "But what about the other people in Britain? They are innocent. Well, most of them are, anyway."

Grishnak added, "The innocent will be informed that, until and unless they quit acting like helpless victims and sheep, the quarantine will be in effect. They have done very little to rid themselves of their Dark Lord. To my people, failing to teach your children how to fight those who would harm them, is considered as child abuse. Your people have not trained your own to fight for themselves, so we, and our allies assembled here, will! Where we can help rescue the innocent or the helpless, we will. But for those who refuse to recognise the threat, from this point there can be no help. It is a matter of survival. For those who are not innocent, the Death Eaters, and their supporters, they will have to be eliminated. Either by the wizarding population, or by us! Agreed?"

Dumbledore spoke up. "But they are afraid of the Death Eaters. There will be retribution."

Grishnak summarized. "Professor, how many people died when Voldemort tried to take power before. Consider your own school – in years long past, you had almost a thousand students. Speaking to Harry here, with his class of the first students since the first Voldemort war, there were about 300 only. Seventy percent of your wizarding population are missing. Dead? Or fled out of your island! If they were all killed, there were around thirty five thousand of your people killed. And how many of what you call muggles?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

Grishnak added, "Our count is about sixty thousand non-magical people killed in all, and ten thousand just since Voldemort was discorporated by Harry here. And your Ministry keeps letting the Death Eaters go, because after all the victims were 'just muggles'. I say this will stop!"

Dumbledore began crying. "I never noticed."

Grishnak nodded sadly. "By treachery and potions, you were not allowed to notice. Now your eyes are open. We will proceed." All in the room knew that you cannot change the past, but the future is a different matter.

Turing to Amelia Bones, he asked, "I know this is a major change in the way you have done things. Are you in accord with this?"

Madame Bones nodded sadly. "The way things have been has been the problem that I have been very unhappy with. Murderers were allowed to walk free. People who should have been imprisoned were released, and some people at the Ministry got richer because of it. This must stop. Drastic times require drastic measures. My aurors have been our policemen, or would have had they been allowed to do their duties properly. Now they must learn to be soldiers. Even though I am unhappy with the need for it, and I recognize there **is** a need, yes, I agree with this."

Turning to the agent of MI-5 ¾ and the others in the dark suits, he asked, "You know your targets?" The men and women nodded.

Madame Bones looked at Alastor Moody, who had a huge smile on his heavily-scarred face. She asked, "Anything to add, Mad-Eye?"

Moody nodded, "Only that it's bloody well time!"

Harry Potter spoke up. "What is all this going to cost? You people are putting yourselves at risk for me, so I want to pay for it. I understand that I now have access to my vault, so I want to do this."

Dumbledore looked at his young student, whom he had failed so badly. "Harry, I know you have felt that people are at risk because Voldemort keeps coming after you, and that it somehow is your fault. You have a good heart, in spite of your upbringing, and it does you credit. I will admit he has a certain fixation about you, because you are the only one who has survived his attacks. But were you not listening to the General? Voldemort is a direct threat to them, even if you had nothing to do with it."

"Your friend, Miss Granger, is at risk because she is a muggle-born, or as Grishnak called her kind of witch, a first-born. Also she is extremely capable, and kept showing the pure-bloods what garbage their propaganda is, by besting them at every turn."

"The Weasley family are in danger, because they are a pure-blood family who want nothing to do with Voldemort and his lies. Molly's two brothers were killed in the first Voldemort war, and Arthur's work at the Ministry was a constant embarrassment to several Death Eater families. They would be in danger even if you had never been part of their lives."

Harry looked around the room and said, "But these people are going to fight the Death Eaters, and some will be hurt, or even killed. I don't want anyone to become an orphan if I can help it. I want to know everything is being done right!"

As the room took on a sudden chill, and people started to cringe, Sirius Black stood quickly and bowed to Grishnak and Ragnok, who were scowling. "My Lord Goblins, may I apologize for my godson? He is young and does not know your ways and customs. Therefore, he is not aware that when a goblin says he will do something, it will be done right or he will die in the attempt. That is the goblin way. I know whatever is done, will be done right! Again, I ask your pardon."

Grishnak nodded, and the room warmed up again. "It is forgiven. The young are often unaware of the customs of others. However, I suggest we take advantage of Mr. Potter's offer, and set up a fund for the medical care of those injured in the coming battles, and to provide for the families of those who fall. After all, war is still business. Mr. Potter, I can assure you that we will do our best to make sure that that number will be very small, on our side. Is this acceptable?"

Harry nodded. Then he added, "We spoke earlier of Bill Weasley knowing how to create protective wards. Can I ask that we put up really strong wards for people who can't protect themselves, such as the families of the first-borns? I have to say I like that term better than 'muggle-born'. The pure-bloodists also seem to hate the half-bloods like myself and my friend Seamus."

Sirius Black added, "And how about putting up protective wards around Azkaban?"

Amelia Bones shook her head. "Azkaban is well protected, and escape-proof. Why add wards there?"

Sirius smiled at her, and said, "Madame Bones, you forget, for just a moment I am sure, but I escaped from Azkaban! It is not escape-proof. If we start making a serious dent in Voldemort's forces, he might try to break out those who actually are held in Azkaban, like my cousin Bellatrix! And what if he recruits the dementors stationed there? I mean, if Malfoy could bribe **his** way out, but Cousin Trixie couldn't, that means that she was so bad that even Minister Fudge didn't dare letting her loose. We need to be sure that the people in there, stay in there."

With a nasty twinkle in his eye, Grishnak added, "Or we can make sure that their life sentence means exactly what it is called! A very good idea. Monsieur Delacour, do you wish a similar treatment for the Chateau d'If?"

The Frenchman thought for a moment and then nodded.

Harry spoke up again. "How much will these extra wards cost to set up?"

Ragnok gestured to one of the goblins at the side of the room. The creature drew a parchment from a device on the table, and passed it to Ragnok, who looked at it, smiled, and passed the document to Grishnak. The elder goblin also nodded. "Mr. Potter, the cost of conducting this war, with the additional warding for the families of first-borns and half-bloods and the extra funds you have suggested, comes to a tidy sum. It works out to just under two percent of the annual interest on the Potter estate. Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, is this amount acceptable?"

Sirius smiled and leaned over to his godson, nudging him in the ribs with his elbow. "Harry, say yes!"

Sirius turned to Grishnak and Ragnok, and asked, "If we are to impose an embargo of goods going to the UK, won't that harm the merchants who are supplying the goods? I suspect some are knowingly complicit, after all, bigotry knows few boundaries, but as Harry says, I would also not want the innocent to suffer. May I propose that, where it can be shown that the vendors are innocent of the Death Eaters' actions or propaganda, we, meaning Harry and I, being as I am his godfather and guardian and I can make this offer on his behalf, we will buy the embargoed goods in their stead."

Grishnak smiled. Here was a wizard with a head for business. He would have to tell his grandfather about it – the old goblin would never believe it.

The goblins nodded, and noted, "Mr. Black, you are committing the Houses of Potter and Black to an awful lot of wine and cheese, not to mention the high-priced cognac that your Mr. Malfoy is so fond of?"

Sirius transformed into Snuffles briefly, and then back into his human form. "Then I guess it is fortunate that dogs like cheese, isn't it?"

Turning to Amelia Bones, he blushed. "Madame Director, I am afraid I never got around to registering as an animagus, and to tell you the truth, I would prefer to keep it that way."

The head of the DMLE just smiled. "I'm sure the registration papers just got lost in the usual bureaucratic foul-up. I wouldn't worry about it."

The British wizarding society was shocked to find both the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler running the same public announcement on tier front pages, a week before students were scheduled to return to Hogwarts for the fall term.

It read:

'Notice to All:

The Ministry of Magic has been informed by their counterparts in Europe and North America that, unless and until the Tom Riddle, the self-styled Dark Lord known as Lord Voldemort, and his gang of thugs known as the Death Eaters, are eliminated as a threat to wizarding societies everywhere, they are imposing a permanent trade embargo on our country.

As part of this embargo, Gringott's Bank has frozen the assets of all persons known to wear the Dark Mark, and of all persons known to support the Dark Lord's cause. If any persons find that their accounts have problems due to an error in this designation, they are requested by Lord Ragnok, the President of Gringott's (London), to present themselves in person at Gringott's to have the matter straightened out.

As the public will know, the Daily Prophet has been carrying the claims of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, denying the claims of Harry Potter and Hogwarts' Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, that Lord Voldemort has returned. It has been proven, to the satisfaction of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, that Fudge has been under the sway of the marked Death Eater Lucius Malfoy.

Evidence has shown that Mr. Malfoy, who was exonerated after the war with Lord Voldemort ending in 1981 when Harry Potter (aka the Boy-Who-Lived) somehow defeated Voldemort, was pardoned only after substantial bribes were paid to important persons in the Ministry. The recipients of the bribes have been removed from their positions at the Ministry, and the whereabouts of Lucius Malfoy are under investigation. Anyone having knowledge of his location is asked to contact the DMLE immediately.

In light of this action by our neighbours, the Ministry of Magic has removed all employees wearing the Mark or supporting their cause, from positions of authority or influence.

Because of the undue influence these persons have exerted, there have been numerous unmarked supporters of the Death Eaters' cause who have been on staff. This consequent reduction in staff will slow Ministry operations for some time, but the public is assured that from now on, they will get honest service from their public servants.

At this time, the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain officially apologises to Harry Potter and to Headmaster Dumbledore for the lies told by the previous administration.

The Ministry has also accepted new evidence that Sirius Black, the head of the Black family, is completely innocent of the charges for which he was unjustly imprisoned. Restitution will be made, and the Ministry apologises for this miscarriage of justice.'


	8. Elimination

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Chapter 8: Elimination**

The morning following the announcement of the embargo, staff arriving at the Ministry of Magic, and at the office of the Daily Prophet, were astonished to find the offices nearly empty. The Minister's office was empty, and his secretary was missing.

The whereabouts of Minister Fudge, and the publisher and editor of the Prophet, could not be determined.

When Amelia Bones and a squad of trustworthy aurors entered Delores Umbridge's office, her three secretaries (Slytherins all) attempted to stop them. After assurances that Madame Umbridge would not be returning, the three relaxed. Under questioning, it was found that all three had committed minor indiscretions when at Hogwarts, primarily at intoxicated end-of-the-year parties going 'muggling'. For one of the women, this resulted in an unplanned pregnancy which had it become widely known would have ended her career in the Ministry because of the rampant bigotry. It seemed that blackmail was a tool Umbridge used to ensure loyalty.

Garfield Goyle and Dungeness Crabbe looked at their small group of ten Death Eaters. As was typical of this sort of mission, there were about half and half experienced Wearers of the Mark (as their rank was called in the organization) and trainees. They had two potential initiates who were, like some muggle criminal gangs, going to commit their first personal murder and be promoted to being branded with the full Dark Mark. One of the initiates was Goyle's son Greg. For the Death Eaters, this was a Rite of Passage, a Coming of Age.

They had gone over the plan several times so that all of the group was familiar with their roles in the operation. They had surrounded the Burrow, the residence of a blood-traitor family that had caused problems, and they were going to finish them tonight. The family had a young daughter who would provide sport for the trainees before she was killed.

As always, they cast anti-portkey and anti-apparition wards around the property, so that the family would have no chance to escape their 'just punishment' for defying the Dark Lord.

In their excitement with the upcoming bloodbath, none of the group noticed a second set of wards going up just inside and outside their own, nor the fact that the entire group stood between the two additional ward barriers.

They did start to notice as the two new sets of wards started to move towards each other. The new spells seemed impervious to any of the team trying to move through them, which was not the case of their normal spells. As the space between the wards became narrower and narrower, some of the trainees began to panic.

The two wards which had not been erected by the Death Eaters finally stopped moving when they were a few centimeters apart. What had been twelve experienced Death Eaters and the wannabees were now twelve largely red, but multi-coloured, smears of a couple square metres each.

The only survivors of the attack were the unhurt occupants of the house, a small boy and a middle-aged man who had been standing well back from the wards. The young wizard, Crabbe's youngest son, Fiddler, had come to see his father's so-important role in the Dark Lord's master plan, and instead saw his father and elder brother die horribly, and Lucius Malfoy, the second in command after the Dark Lord himself, flee in panic. The lad saw the famed prowess, invincibility, courage and pure-blood honour of the Death Eaters for what it was.

When the cleanup team arrived to take down the wards and remove the detritus of the first successful test of the new wards, the goblin contingent laughed at their human counterparts' inability to retain their previous meals. The black cloaks and white masks were scourgified for later use or display, and what was described as 'chunky salsa' was banished to wherever household garbage was sent.

After the attacks on several houses of blood-traitors and mud-bloods ended in disaster for Voldemort's forces, the decision was made to free Bellatrix Lestrange and other (low-level) Death Eaters from Azkaban prison. They had sent their best curse-breakers and demolition teams to break in and break out. Once the attack squad apparated out to the prison island, nothing further was heard from them. The Dark Lord's command to respond, sent through the Dark Mark, was unanswered.

Lucius Malfoy was in a serious bind. As the effective treasurer of the Death Eaters, he had been tasked with supplying the funds for Voldemort's operations. As the band had grown, the need for money got higher and higher. Now, their sources were being cut off. However, this problem was mitigated, as it were, by the fact that the Death Eaters themselves were being eliminated and that there were only a few left. Unfortunately, the ones who were left were the least competent and the most greedy.

Until recently, there had been a slush fund at Gringott's that got deposits from an unknown source within the Ministry that re-routed Wizengamot resources into a fund to 'Special Projects', ostensibly under the direct control of the Minister's office., although it was quite apparent to Malfoy that the Minster was kept blissfully unaware of this arrangement. The bulk of the money was being diverted from funds that should have gone to training and equipping aurors, so it was not only funding the Death Eater organization, but also handicapping those who should have been dealing with them.

Lucius had drawn funds from this vault to supply the Death Eaters as well as paying the bribes that kept the Minster compliant. It amused Lucius to know that the Ministry had been subverted with its own money.

Now, the cursed goblins had cut off access to this account, due to some traitor giving out information that was to remain secret, and Fudge had disappeared. Voldemort was insisting that payments be forthcoming in the very near future. Malfoy knew that if he didn't get some money soon, he would have to start supplying the money from his own fortune which he had stashed away in secret places (having never trusted the goblins), and he very much did not want to do that. The embargo on European goods was cutting into his lifestyle and those of his clients, whose agreeable nature was been essential to keeping the aurors from looking too closely at certain activities. Both at the Ministry and the Wizengamot, as well as in the general population. And word was that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was looking at the Minister's bank accounts and other irregularities – that would never do.

Lucius had been lucky so far. He had been out of the Ministry building and far away, the day of what had come to be called 'The Purge'. His group of trainee Death Eaters had all been captured and executed, while he had remained at their headquarters in Edinburgh waiting for word of their successful attack on the Scottish muggle parliament – word that never came.

He had returned to his manor house to find Minster Fudge's body lying in the foyer, with a small hole in his forehead and a large wound where the back of his head once was. ON the Minister's clothes was a note, saying, "You bought him. Now he's yours." Narcissa had been hysterical – this was not supposed to happen! They were supposed to be the ones in charge!

Lucius was becoming desperate. What had seemed in his youthful pride to be a path to power, was rapidly becoming clearly a path to slavery to the monster he had inescapably bound himself to. He had seen what happened to his fellow servants when the Dark Lord became unhappy, or they disobeyed. Lucius was being ordered to provide the money, and although he had no wish to deplete his own family's resources, it was looking like that was the only future he could expect.

Something had to be done, and fast. Lucius Malfoy was a desperate wizard, which was why he was out in muggle London. He was in a rough area, where it looked to his practiced eye that life was cheap, and adherence to 'the rules' was limited.

He had approached one of the muggle women dressed in what seemed like inadequate clothing given the weather, and when she seemed to welcome the approach if the well (if oddly) dressed tall aristocratic man with long blond hair, he cast an Imperious on her.

Giving her the gun he had procured at the shop, where the confounded shopkeeper stood wondering what had happened to the handgun which he was only allowed to keep and sell under very restrictive conditions, he led her to a nearby bank and sent her in with specific instructions. In his worried state, he did not observe the husky muggle following the two from their original meeting point.

When the young woman came out of the bank, a siren started to sound. Lucius smile, knowing that as soon as she handed over the bag containing the money, he would apparate away, leaving her to deal with the police alone.

As she held the bag towards him, Lucius felt a strong grip on his shoulder, and heard a voice saying, "My girls give their money to me, gov'ner. Nobody else! You hear!"

Lucius spun and as he drew his wand, faced the man with a scarred face. "How dare you touch me!"

As he died of natural causes (as that part of London defined the term) Lucius heard the pimp's voice saying, "Nobody talks back to me in my territory, gov'!"

The muggle newspapers requested information from anyone who could identify the body of the well-dressed middle-aged man with long blonde hair, which had been found floating in the Thames River with a fatal knife wound in his chest. The authorities had no records of any such person ever being in Britain.

As none of the pure-blood wizarding community would have ever read muggle newspapers (or at least admit to it), and very few of the muggle-born magical folk knew Lucius Malfoy by sight, and those who did had few regrets about his demise, the authorities' call for information went completely unheeded.

It was a cold day at the end of October, when Harry Potter and a number of companions appears at a run-down shack on the outskirts of Little Hanglington.

He thought it fitting that this day, that would see the end of Voldemort, was the anniversary of the first time he had faced Voldemort, the day his parents were murdered by the Dark Lord.

The various curse-breaking teams had tracked down and destroyed the five horcruxes, and the Death Eaters had been eliminated or captured and imprisoned where they would not be released. With no servants left, the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort had not eaten in over a week. His familiar, the snake Nagini, had been lured out of the shack by the smell of fresh meat and summarily dispatched, eliminating the last horcrux.

Harry, Sirius Black, and several others entered the shack. The Dark Lord was sitting on his 'throne', looking very pale and weak.

"Ah, Potter, you have finally come so that I can kill you myself."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry Tom, not today. I have come to finish you. You have no servants left for feed you their power. You are going to die, just as the prophecy said."

Voldemort shrieked, "You cannot kill me! I am immortal!"

Again Harry shook his head. "Your horcruxes have all been destroyed, including the one you fastened to my head."

With this, Harry's companions tossed the recovered Death Eater masks to the floor in front of the horrified Voldemort.

Pulling himself to his full height, Harry said, "Hello. My name is Harry Potter. You killed my father and my mother. Prepare to die."

As Sirius fell to the ground laughing, Harry looked to his associates and said, "I always wanted to say that." The rest of the group stood with puzzled looks, having less exposure to muggle entertainments.

Turning back to the Dark Lord, Harry continued. "This last year, your servants took my blood so that you could take on a new body. I want it back, and I am going to have it! Your body is nothing but a magical construct based on a spell and sustained by a spell. No longer! Finite Incantatum!"

With this, Voldemort's body dissolved into a pile of bones and blood on the floor. A black mist formed above the pile with a horrendous shriek, and then dissipated into nothingness.

Harry looked at his godfather and his companions. The aurors and witnesses from the DMLE, Gringott's and several Ministries of Magic looked to him as well, and nodded as he said, "I think we're done here. Let's go."


	9. School

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Warning: **No mention of removal of knickers (except here)

**Chapter 9: School**

Two days later, at dinner on the second day of the Days of the Dead Festival (celebrated by the two Mexican exchange students, and with the final end of Voldemort, a good reason for all to celebrate with them), Harry Potter and his friends sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

Harry sadly looked over to the empty space across from him. Hermione Granger had not returned from her exile, and was not really expected to return from Beauxbatons, as her family felt that the bigotry towards the muggle-born would not have been completely cleansed from British wizarding society so easily or quickly. Great Britain seemed to produce a Dark Lord ever few decades, and the Grangers had decided that this was not a good trend.

He also looked over to where the Weasleys were sitting and laughing. Although he would certainly miss Hermione during the school year, until summer when he traveled to the south of France, at least Harry knew that his best friends were safe.

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, and pondered the futures which had been changed, and in some cases lost forever.

Many of his own classmates and the upperclassmen were no longer there. Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were all missing, as were Marcus Flint, Ted Nott and several others.

Surprisingly to many, Millicent Bulstrode was still at school, proving that she had been only a follower of the overbearing group of bullies, and not really a participant. More surprising, she actually looked happy for the first time in the recollection of most of the students. Having been a plain, and 'big-boned' girl, she had put up with a lot of emotional and physical abuse throughout her life, and because of her family connections, she had hung around with Malfoy's bunch of purists. However, as they tended to abuse her as well, she never really bought into their beliefs. She had also found that in the Herbology club and the girls' sewing circle, she had been accepted as a friend – with some of the best acceptance coming from the Gryffindor members of the clubs. However, being of Slytherin cunning, she knew better than to let this fact become widely known in her dorm.

Perhaps the saddest figure of all was that of Draco Malfoy. All his close friends and connections were dead. When he had been informed by Gringott's that he was now the head of the Malfoy family, he knew that the path his father had tried to have him follow had led to the man's death.

His mother had turned herself in to the authorities, and insisted on questioning under veritaserum, knowing no-one would believe her otherwise. She proved, to the aurors' satisfaction, that although she bore the Dark Mark (for long years of service, and not awarded for its usual reason), her function had been administrative in the role of the accountant for the gang, and had never been active in an operational capacity. She was now in Azkaban for a five year term, but could be expected to survive, which was more than could be said for her former associates.

Like his former bodyguards, Draco had taken the preliminary mark, in preparation to committing his first official murder. He had discovered that the prospect of being a fully branded slave to Voldemort terrified him, seeing as this path had led to the deaths of most of his friends and members of their families. When Voldemort died, the draw on Draco's magical power had been weak, as he was not fully Marked and the Dark Lord himself was weak by that point. This left his left forearm badly and permanently withered where the Mark was. He knew he would never play quidditch again, as he would never be able to hold a broom with his left hand.

The Dark Lord's draw had been weak, and although Narcissa's entire left arm was now a withered ruin, at least she had survived, if a five year stretch in Azkaban can be considered surviving.

As the Head of Family Malfoy, Draco was fairly rich, but knew that no-one still alive would ever trust him again. His days of bullying and lording it over Hogwarts was over. The fact that Professor Snape had vanished also told him that he would no longer be forgiven for his actions as in previous times. Although well-off, he was truly ruined.

Near the end of the feast, Headmaster Dumbledore rose to his feet, and announced that as a special treat, and thanks to the generosity of Harry Potter and an old alumnus, for the next week the students would be able to sample some rare and exotic cheeses from around the world.

To the amazement and puzzlement of most of the students, Draco Malfoy started to cry.

Quietly and surreptitiously, Harry Potter wrote a short note, folded into an airplane shape, and sent it flying underneath the Gryffindor table, until it reached the front of the hall, where it flew up to land in front of the Headmaster.

Dumbledore looked surprised at receiving a note in this way, but quickly read it, caught Harry's eye and nodded slightly.

He leaned over the head table and whispered to Rolanda Hooch. He passed the note to her, who nodded and passed the note to Minerva McGonagall. Madame Hooch had taken over as the Head of Slytherin House, after the disappearance of Severus Snape.

Both the Heads of House left the head table. Hooch went up to Draco Malfoy, and spoke quietly to him, while McGonagall did the same with Harry Potter. Both boys were told that they were to come to the Headmaster's office after the meal was finished.

When the students and their Heads of House had arrived, and been offered licorice all-sorts (Dumbledore having permanently banished lemon drops from his office), the Headmaster broached the subject of starting a flying club, to help students who were not picked for the quidditch team improve their skills. He asked Harry and Draco to be the student heads of the club, under the supervision of Madame Hooch.

Harry agreed, after appearing to consider it briefly. He and McGonagall shared a small smile.

Draco was shocked by the request and said he couldn't fly any more, with only one good hand. Hooch scoffed, and said "I've seen you fly, Malfoy, and I have seen you wave at people with your left hand while you held your broom in your right, while doing complex manoeuvers. You can fly, and as your Head of House I want you to at least consider it."

As they left the office, Malfoy turned to Potter and accused him of a plot. "Potter, I know you are behind this. If you are trying to get back at me now that I am a cripple, it won't work. Just because you hate me doesn't mean that I am going to dance to your tune. I don't want your pity!"

Harry looked at him with a steady gaze, and said "And you won't get my pity. Malfoy, I never hated you. I was disgusted by you, yes, but never hate. You just weren't worth the extra effort, when your father and his master kept trying to kill me all the time. I was abused by the bigotry of my relatives, and I think that your family did the same to you. If anything, I was disappointed in you".

Malfoy looked shocked. "Disappointed? How did I disappoint you?" He had considered himself the epitome of the wizarding world, and here was this half-blood saying HE disappointed him.

"Yes, Malfoy. Disappointed. You claimed to be 'better' than Granger purely because of your bloodline, but she beat you at every turn. I never saw any evidence of you being 'better'"

"I had thought that coming into the wizarding world was going to be better that the world I had lived in for most of my life. Then you showed up with Crabbe and Goyle. The first things you said to me was that some wizarding families were 'better' than others, but you were standing there with your two goons, acting like the bully that your father taught you to be. It looked to me like it was going to be the same bullshit I had put up with all my life – the wizarding world was the same stuff, just a different pile."

"Malfoy, I had been bullied by my relatives most of my life, and you showing up with two boys who looked like hired thugs just was more of the same. I hated the bullying, there and here. That's what I hated, not you personally. If anything, I think that, essentially, you were as abused as I was. So hate, no."

"Malfoy, the two games we played against each other, you matched me move for move, for most of the game. The first flying lesson, when you stole Neville's Remember-all, you flew with a natural skill like I had never seen. Maybe you can't play quidditch anymore, but you can fly like almost no-one in this castle.

Malfoy shook his head. "But when you were in the tournament, you out-flew a dragon. I could never do that."

Potter smiled. "You haven't watch yourself fly. And when there is a fire-breathing dragon on your tail, you would be amazed how you can fly! Sheer terror and adrenalin, that's what it was."

"Anyway, yes, it was my idea. My idea is that there are a lot of students here who might love to learn to fly better, but this whole focus on quidditch puts them off. It's like people who like to sing, but are told that they don't have a good enough voice to be on stage, so they shouldn't even try. That attitude take away a lot of the joy in life. I hate to see that happening for something that we wizards can do that others can't"

"To tell you the truth, I really don't care for quidditch."

Malfoy was again shocked.

Harry shook his head. "Just think about it. My first match, Quirrell tried to kill me. The next year, someone hexed that bludger, and then that idiot Lockheart vanished the bone in my arm. I love to fly, but a game where your captain Marcus Flint tried to beat me up a hundred metres above the ground at a hundred kilometres per hour, not so much."

"Malfoy, you and I can fly. You have a talent to fly. I wouldn't want to see it wasted."

"Now, if you would rather wallow in self-pity, because your father enslaved himself and your mother to Voldemort, and that ruined the image that you were taught to have, please go ahead. You have my blessing. But don't waste your life and my time at it."

With that, Potter turned from the stunned Slytherin, and walked away from the stunned boy.


	10. Flying and Crashing

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Warning: **No mention of removal of knickers (except here)

**Chapter 10: Flying and Crashing**

In later years, Harry Potter would conclude that assuming that his problems were over, once Voldemort was no longer, had been a mistake. Possibly the biggest mistake of his life.

Had Hogwarts been obsessed with ancient Roman History as with other British boarding schools (believing that the British Empire was the divinely ordained successor to the Roman Empire) and had actually taught ancient history, which did not involve goblin rebellions taught by a boring ghost, he might have taken a lesson from the story of Julius Ceasar and Cassius. Unfortunately, the curriculum at Hogwarts appeared to consider anything beyond the founding of the school in the mid 900's not worthy of mention, unless it concerned just how ancient one of the Ancient and Noble Houses of wizards was, and even then the 'quality' of the documentation was highly suspect.

Harry had been highly annoyed and suspicious of Draco Malfoy since the two had first met on the Hogwarts Express, but with Voldemort trying to kill him, he did not have the emotional energy to spare in working up his distaste to actually hating the pompous fool.

Draco, on the other hand, had spent his formative life being told that, as the Heir to the House of Malfoy, he was the pinnacle of existence and deserving of all good things (and that through no particular effort on his part). To have Potter achieve where he failed, repeatedly, and worse to be bested at every turn by a first-generation (aka mudblood) witch, who he 'knew' to be beneath him in every sense except the sexual one, was utterly intolerable. Having his father and his father's Dark Master destroyed, if not by Potter personally (as such an event was unthinkable to the young pure-blood fanatic) just made his hunger to resume his rightful place at the top of the wizarding world the more intense.

When Harry suggested to the teachers that a flying club was a good idea, and that he and Draco (as the best flyers at Hogwarts, barring Madame Hooch herself) should be the students in charge, Draco saw his opportunity. At the first practice, he made sure that Potter's broom had been charmed with the deadliest spells, to make control impossible.

Harry started the first meeting of the flying club by introducing himself and the purpose of the club. Harry announced, "Welcome to the first gathering of the Hogwarts Flying Club. Most of you know my name, but for those who don't, I'm Harry. I play quidditch, but more important, I love to fly, and that is the purpose of this group. Quidditch is a rough sport, and not everyone is suited to it, but everyone can learn to enjoy handling a broom. You may have heard a lot of things about me, like that I'm a Parceltongue – I assure you that the ability to talk with snakes is vastly overrated unless you are excited by long discussions or how good mice taste and where the best rats can be found. These other things don't really matter to me, and they don't matter here. We are here to enjoy, or to learn to enjoy flying. Madame Hooch is in charge of the club, but Draco Malfoy and I are here to help you learn the skills of flying a broom. Draco, here with me, is the seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team, and an expert flyer. We'll show you how it's done while you get good at it."

With this, Harry left the podium, and mounted his broom. Instead of the smooth simple flight he expected, his broom zoomed off erratically. As he went through an incredible set of gyrations and then landed safely beside Madame Hooch, quietly asking her to check his broom for jinxes, Draco was mortified. When later that evening, Harry was praised by the other students in the club for the fantastic display of flying prowess, Draco spent the next several hours in the Slytherin dorms screaming his head off. Madame Hooch, who was now the Head of Slytherin House, had to spend the better part of the night rounding up her students who had fled the dungeons in search of some peace.

Before the next meeting of the club, Draco had further increased the potency of the spells on Harry's broom, having spent several non-approved hours in the restricted section of the library, consulting books on the darkest magics. To this course of study, he had also consulted several books in his father's private library, which had somehow managed to avoid being impounded by the aurors after the fall of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

When the club met, Harry proposed a demonstration of the fact that it was the flyer who was in control and a high performance broom, although a useful tool in the hands of an expert, was not the be-all and end-all of flying. Any broom would do, and the fact that most of the students would never be able to afford a competition-level broom was not reason to prevent someone from loving to fly. In order to demonstrate this fact, he insisted that he and Draco exchange brooms, so that Draco would have his Firebolt, and he would fly Draco's Nimbus 2300.

Draco realized he could not refuse Harry's broom, as it would be obvious that it had been tampered with. However, in his heart (which was as little in contact with reality as his brain), he knew he was at least as good a flyer as Harry, if not better, and it was just impossible for him to allow Harry to show him up.

As Draco healed slowly under Madame Pomfrey's expert care, his reputation as an expert flyer now in tatters, his rage increased another tenfold, until the medi-witch decided that a strong blood-pressure reduction potion was in order.

By the Christmas break, Mad-eye Moody requested a meeting with Harry, Headmaster Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall. Rolanda Hooch also attended, at Dumbledore's request. Moody informed them that he and his 'staff' had foiled thirteen assassination attempts so far, (Harry had wondered what the frequent whoosh and pop sounds that he had been hearing had been, when his attacker was quickly stunned and apparated away) and that it was probably unwise for Harry to continue at Hogwarts.

Harry had returned to Hogwarts, and wanted to stay at Hogwarts, as it had been his first real home and the only place he had ever really felt at home. Besides which, his French was not really adequate to join Hermione Granger at Beauxbatons. Besides, except for her, all his friends were at Hogwarts.

With Dumbledore's recovery from the potioned lemon drops (having been replaced with a bowl of licorice all-sorts on his desk), his lessons with the Headmaster had improved greatly. However, the social atmosphere at Hogwarts still left much to be desired. The removal of the Dark Lord had not completely removed the attitudes which had given rise to a new dark lord very couple of decades.

This had been driven home to Harry just after the Christmas leaving feast, before the students returned home for the holidays and before his meeting. Millicent Bulstrode approached him to thank him for killing Vincent Crabbe. Harry was rather shocked, and explained that he had not killed the boy, but Millicent was insistent that, if he had not done the deed himself, he had either given the order, or been otherwise instrumental in the process, and for this she was thankful to him.

Harry was puzzled by this attitude, and asked for a clarification. Millicent explained that she and Vincent (as the oldest son of the Crabbe family, had been bound together by a marriage contract. Although she accepted the existence of the contract, having really no say in the pact between her father and Vince's father, she was not happy with the younger Crabbe's hygienic practices (or lack thereof) and among other things, his love-making. She complained that he would just climb on her and lay there waiting for her to move, even after his father had repeatedly demonstrated the proper techniques. When Harry was shocked by this admission, Millicent explained that it was quite the proper way in the pure-blood families - after all, how were the young to learn if they were not taught by their elders? Most of the 'proper' high-born families had similar clauses in their contracts, and the Bulstrodes and the Crabbes had been intermarrying for hundreds of years, the same as the Parkinsons and Malfoys, and she knew Pansy and Draco had been sharing a bed since second year.

Harry asked if she had not tried to get out of the contract, and she explained that the only other options were half-bloods or pure-blood blood-traitors, and that would have been absolutely intolerable to her family and to her personally. She said, at least with Vince's younger brother (Fiddler) she might be able to **teach** him how to make her happy.

Harry left this encounter deciding that the previous summer had been for nothing, and that the British wizarding society was apparently not worth saving. As he thought about Millicent's comments about the long-standing family alliances, he decided that it explained a lot about some of his classmates, and the society in general. As he met with the others in the Headmaster's office, he recounted his encounter with the Slytherin girl, and nodded sadly as Moody told of the attempts on Harry's life.

Dumbledore nodded at Moody's observations. Madame Hooch nodded as well, and pointed out that, from her examination of Harry's broom after Draco's 'accident', it was apparent to her that Draco, or parties unknown, were definitely trying to kill him.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Harry, since you disposed of Lord Voldemort and the Europeans instituted the economic quarantine, a lot of people lost their power, their money and their status, and they blame you. No matter that their support of the murdering madman was the reason for their downfall, they always are looking for someone to blame. Draco Malfoy is a prime example. I am afraid that the process that you and your godfather set in motion last summer is not yet anywhere near finished. The quarantine needs to continue, and while it does, Britain is not a safe place for you.

"Our actions of this last half year have left a vacuum at the top of our political hierarchy, what they call a power vacuum. And they say that nature abhors a vacuum. People want their power and their privileges back, and they will try to hold you responsible for their loss. And they will try to punish you for these losses in their positions.

"Harry, denial and self-delusion are unfortunately a very common problem. Over my long life, I have seen it bring down many powerful people – Napoleon, Cardigan, Chamberlain, and so many others. I find that I myself have fallen prey to them too many times over the last years, largely to your detriment. For your continued good health, I cannot continue doing so.

The old guard will blame everyone but themselves for their problems. They will deny any responsibility for their own situation – the grief they suffer is always somebody else's fault.

As long as you stay here you are at risk, because they know you are here. For your own safety, you cannot stay. Harry, as you will recall from our meetings last summer, this land has some serious adjustments to go through before it is really a fit place for you, or for anyone like you and your friend. There are just too many who still need to come to terms with the way things needs to be, and not how they used to be."

Harry turned to Dumbledore and asked, "Is there something we can do for Millicent Bulstrode? She seems trapped in this marriage contract, and she actually seems happy about it."

Rolanda Hooch spoke up at this point. "Harry, since I took over as Head of Slytherin, I have spoken to most of the students in order to get to know my charges better. I have spoken with Miss Bulstrode, and she is indeed happy with the marriage contract. That is the way family alliances used to be confirmed, and that is what she had been taught since her early childhood. She is as much imprisoned by her own family's traditions and her own mind as by magic of the contract.

"The only ways to 'free' her from the contract is either to kill her or to kill every male in the Crabbe family. Doing that would make you, or us, as bad as the evil you are trying to eradicate. Further, if the contract is written in the typical fashion, all that will do is pass the obligations to the next generation of Crabbes and Bulstrodes.

"Mr. Potter, all we can for her at this point is educate young Mr. Crabbe and Miss Bulstrode that this kind of thing is not in the best interest of their children, and to prevent the next generations for having the same thing happen to them.

"Mr. Potter, changing the people at the top of the power structure is easy. Your French friends would call a coup d'etat. What you are wanting is a true revolution, a change in the way of thinking, what they call a paradigm shift, and I am afraid, young man, that takes time!"

Professor McGonagall shook her head and asked, "Mr. Potter, may I ask you exactly what is wrong with Miss Bulstrode's marriage contract, and why you are so keen to overturn it? I would have thought that she was one for whom you would wish nothing but ill, and yet you wish to help, or to do something that you think will help. With your best intentions,.of course, but what is it that you find wrong with it? What precisely is wrong with it, in your eyes?


	11. Minerva's Farewell Lesson

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Warning: **Discussion of marriage contracts, good and bad. Some people get their knickers in a twist about this kind of thing, so you have been warned! So there.

**Chapter 11: Minerva's Farewell Lesson**

Professor McGonagall shook her head and asked, "Mr. Potter, may I ask you exactly what is wrong with Miss Bulstrode's marriage contract, and why you are so keen to overturn it? I would have thought that she was one for whom you would wish nothing but ill, and yet you wish to help, or to do something that you think will help. With your best intentions, of course, but what is it that you find wrong with it? What **precisely** is wrong with it, in your eyes?

Harry Potter looked shocked at this statement from his Head of House. He looked at her and said, "Aren't all marriage contracts bad? They force people to marry people they aren't in love with. That's bad. Isn't it?" He looked puzzled.

McGonagall smiled sadly. "Is it? Mr. Potter, I know that we have failed you in many ways during your time here at Hogwarts. There are some of us who had forgotten that, for all your fame in our world, you were raised apart from the society which should have been your birthright. For most magical children, they are taught the ways of our society as they grow up, but you were denied this early education, but people assume that you would know it all anyway. If, as we here seem to feel, you must leave the place which I hope has been your true home these four and a half years, this may be my last chance to make up for at least some of these failures.

"Had the world been kinder to you, your parents would have taught you many things that your relatives definitely would not have, and did not do. You have had so little time with your godfather, who himself seemed to have little time for the formalities of our society, due both to his nature and the fact that he was disowned from his family at fifteen.

"Harry, we magical folk live longer lives than our non-magical counterparts, and families have had time to accumulate great fortunes or at least many heirlooms, be they of great value or no. Marriage contracts are very common among us, as they are in many cultures around the world.

"I know that the Patil sisters, for example, have marriage contracts arranged for them by their parents. Their parents consulted them about the arrangements, and they definitely had the right to refuse the choices of future mates. Moreover, their parents took the future happiness of their children as the essential feature of the contracts. Were they wrong to do so? In Indian society such contracts are very common."

Harry shook his head, rejecting this argument. "My parents married for love. They didn't have a contract. The Weasleys didn't have a contract!"

Minerva smiled. "Are you sure about that?"

Harry again was shocked. "I would have known. I would have been told, wouldn't I?"

His Professor smiled and shook her head. "Harry, as with many things since you came back to our world, people might have thought you already knew."

Then taking pity on the boy she added, "No, your parents (may they rest is peace, for I miss them still) married for love, without a contract. The Weasley and Prewitt families did make up a contract, but only after Molly and Arthur had fallen in love here at Hogwarts."

"Harry, marriage contracts are how many of the old families maintained their property and set out lines of inheritance. When a wizard might live for a century and a half, and particularly if he has married a muggle woman (yes, it does happen, although not often in the more problematic pure-blood families), he is likely to outlive her, and might have a second family by a second wife. Without contracts to lay out expectations, responsibilities and inheritances, fratricide was quite likely and unfortunately did occur frequently.

"If you take a look at the lines of succession in old Royal families such as the Ottomans and the Mogul empires, you would see that the lives of younger brothers tended to end abruptly and painfully, or else the younger siblings were married off in far countries never to return, or else they might be blinded or crippled so that they would not represent any threat to the head of the family who was to inherit the throne.

"Contracts were also a way of announcing that families had strong common interests or were allied politically. The contracts serve a similar function to a last will and testament, but were in effect while the people were still among the living."

"Now, Harry, I agree with you that Miss Bulstrode's marriage contract is an abomination, but not solely because it is a marriage contract. In her case, she was not consulted on the matter. The contract was set down to require the eldest boy of either family and the eldest girl of the other. If the late Vincent Crabbe had had an older sister, then it would have been Millicent's older brother Michael who would be bound be the contract. This was purely a matter of the family alliances, with no regard for the wishes of the young people bound by the terms. In fact, her contract did not even refer to the current generation, but it is only now that the Crabbe family had sons of marriageable age and appreciable magical power at the same time as the Bulstrodes had a daughter with similar characteristics – the contract was actually written over a hundred and twenty years ago.

"Unfortunately, such contracts are common among the so-called high-born families. Even the 'sexual training' clauses that she told you about are not at all uncommon.

"No, the worst part of her contract, and I must say the one between the Malfoy and Parkinson families, which now requires the marriage of Draco Malfoy and Pansy's younger sister Nasturtium, should they both survive until her seventeenth birthday (which given Mr. Malfoy's recent actions is doubtful), is that they are terrible in terms of the genetics. The Bulstrode and Crabbe families have intermarried multiple times over the last three centuries. The Malfoy and Parkinson families have also intermarried almost exclusively for the last five centuries. The only reason that Lucius Malfoy wed Narcissa Black was that they only surviving female in the Parkinson line at the time was a squib, and so the contract allowed for alternatives (I must point out that the poor girl seems to have completely disappeared, and I fear foul play may have been involved, sparing the pure-blood family the social embarrassment).

"There are a group of about seven of the supposedly high ranking magical families who have been interbreeding to the point where it is rare for one of their children to be both intelligent and magically gifted. They often have but one child, or none. Of course, they deny these facts, and infanticide is not uncommon, although never mentioned in polite society.

"All these supposedly superior families have been breeding themselves into extinction, or at least stupidity. Inbreeding works to strengthen the bloodlines to a point, but these families passed that point about two hundred years ago. Many of your Slytherin classmates, who have caused you so much grief over the years here, are the results.

"Miss Bulstrode's contract is a continuation of this insane practice. That is why it is a bad thing, in my considered opinion.

"Harry, our ways are different than what your relatives brought you up to believe. I would think, given how they brought you up, you might see this as a good thing. You know our magical world is different from the one you grew up in, and at one time you saw this as being wonderful. I have myself hear you say that you loved magic.

"I believe there is a muggle saying about throwing out the baby with the bath water. I know that we have a lot of work to do in curing our society of its ills, but please make sure that you preserve the good in our world at the same time. It is your world as well as mine, and I happen to like some of it."

She then straightened up to her full height, said sadly and more formally, "Harry, I have enjoyed having you as a student. However, your presence at Hogwarts not only puts your own life in danger, but those around you as well. A poorly aimed killing spell might miss you and harm others. As your Head of House, Deputy Headmistress, and the one who sent the letter inviting you to come to Hogwarts, it is my sad duty to have to ask you to leave." With this, the normally dure Scottish witch burst into tears and held out her arms to Harry. Not knowing what else to do, he went to her and gave her a heartfelt hug.

Harry turned to Dumbledore and asked, "But where can I go? I can't speak French very well, and my German and Bulgarian might as well not be mentioned at all. What school will take me like this?"

Dumbledore's eyes took on their usual twinkle. "Funny you should mention that. I have had a chat with Olympe Maxime at Beauxbatons, and she had agreed to accept you as a student. I believe you have some friends enrolled there already. Oh, and you may need these."

The Headmaster handed Harry a small booklet and a card. Dumbledore smiled and said, "The General passed those on to me to give to you. It seems that, when you were given asylum, you were also granted French citizenship. It's your passport and your official government identity card."

Harry shook his head. "But I just pointed out, my French is terrible. I won't be able to understand the lessons. What's the point? I might as well go to America or to Canada."

The thought of Harry actually going overseas obviously horrified the senor wizards and witches. The colonies, indeed.

Harry smiled – another example of the British sense of superiority. France was at least another European country with a long history, but the Americas had not 'history' unless you were willing to accept the magical practices of the native population, and that just would not do.

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled again. "Harry, you may not have heard about a Mastery level spell, that someone leaked in some books that the muggles thought were what they call Science-Frictional books, or something like that. It is a charm that allows you understand any language, by coupling a speaker's surface thought to your auditory nerves. In the books, they accomplished this with a creature called a Babel Fish, which you stuck in your ear. The spell allows you to hear only the surface thoughts, so it is nothing like the Legimency spells which probe the deeper mind. And unlike the Babel Fish, it also allows you to pick up a new language within a week or two, and Madame Maxime has arranged for you to have an immersion course in the French language for the first couple weeks of the winter term, to be taught by some rather pretty ladies of your previous acquaintance. Will that help?"

Harry Potter nodded reluctantly. If he had to go, he would need all the help he could get. Dumbledore drew his wand and made a series of intricate movements, and finally said, "There, done. Minerva, if you would?"

Harry had never heard his Head of House say anything so obscene and profane in his time at Hogwarts. He was shocked that his favourite professor would say such things, or even that she knew such words! He exclaimed, "I thought only the boys in the dorm said things like that!" His elders laughed at this rather precise observation.

Hooch and Moody looked puzzled, while McGonagall and Dumbledore smiled. While Dumbledore laughed, Professor McGonagall smiled at Harry's fiercely blushing face, and said "You obviously understood me quite well. What I said was in Highland Gaelic, and was rather typical of the kind of thing said by the sailors and fishermen in the village where I grew up. My mother told me often that they were rough men and that their language was not for the ears of a young lady, which of course made a young lassie the more eager to hear what they had to say. It was not until I was older that I understood some of the more, shall I say, anatomical terms."

She reached over to him again, and gave Harry a firm hug. "Harry, your mother was one of my favourite students, and her death hurts me very deeply even to this day. I hate to lose you too, but go you must. Take care." With that, she turned and left the room sobbing.

Harry sadly nodded, and with his head low and following Minerva McGonagall, left the room to pack his few belongings and leave Britain for the foreseeable future.


	12. Meditations

**The Plague Ship**

**Synopsis:** What might have happened if Sirius had been a bit more proactive after the dementor attack on Harry and Dudley? AU, and Hermione had not gone to Grimmauld Place, deciding to spend time with her family instead. No super-powered Harry.

**Timeframe:** Starting early August 8, 1995, then continuing afterwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Potterverse, so quit asking for loans or donations.

**Warning:** It is said that only the middle class give more than lip-service to middle-class morality. Bashing of middle-class morality will occur. And it's diatribe time!

**Chapter 12: Meditations**

It was a warm afternoon, and Harry Potter sat on the veranda of his house overlooking the Dordogne River, sipping a glass of the black wine of Cahors. The area, just upstream of the more famous Bordeaux region of France, also made some lovely wines which went so well with the _pate de fois gras_ produced in the area.

His chateau had a muggle-friendly wing, which was set up as a museum with ceramics dating back to the Egyptian pharaohs and the Minoans. The house elves had kept the museum rooms up and running in the years when the family had not been able to be 'in residence', and the _Chateau des Ceramiques_ was a popular visit for the local school classes studying various periods in history. One of its prize (and priceless) pieces was a still-sealed amphora of wine from the year of Lucius Opimius' consulship (121B.C.).

Since his original escape to France and subsequent moving there permanently, he had kept in touch with his friends in England and Scotland. When he attained his majority (both magical and muggle) and had come into his inheritances, he found that the Potter family had retained some properties in the south since before the Hundred-Years War. Eleanor of Aquitaine had brought the lands into the holdings of the English crown when she married the English king Henry, and it had taken the war for France to get them back.

To Harry's continuing delight, the area was alive with magic dating back some thousands of years, when the tribal shamans had painted the walls of the caves in the area. The additional facts that his friends the Delacours lived not too far away, and his godfather Sirius also had a chateau close by, were also pluses in his mind.

The best part of living in this part of France, in Harry's mind, was that nobody cared about his history, or at least seemed to care. Here, he was another English wizard who had some property in the wine country, was friendly with the locals, paid in cash, and didn't chase the local young women. His only problem seemed to be a violent temper which appeared when someone tried to force him to do something. If asked for help, he would give more than was asked, but he would not be forced.

The local feelings about Sirius were rather more strained, as the old Marauder had never really had the opportunity (or the inclination) to grow up, and was seen as a bit of a rascal who delighted in upsetting people.

Harry kept in touch with the news from Britain, although he often found it depressing. Although there had been some improvement in the workings of the British magical world, the old guard was still fighting had to maintain their stranglehold on power. The bigotry which had been so prevalent was eroding, but not fast enough for Harry's taste. It had certainly not reached the concept of 'Egalite' or 'Fraternite' common in his new home.

As Fleur Weasley had commented during one of her visits, the English still had the idea of hereditary lordships firmly in their minds, whereas France had at least tried to discard this and many other such flaws in the revolution. As she wisely pointed out, it had not been completely successful, but certainly going through several wars with people working together provided the basis for a more level field.

Although her parents had returned to England and resumed their dental practices after Harry had put paid to the late and very much unlamented Tom Riddle, and various allied forces had eliminated most of the Death Eaters, Hermione had still found that, as what Harry was now calling a first-generation witch (rather than muggle-born), her prospects in Magical Britain were still slim. Consequently, after graduating from _L'Academie des Beauxbatons_, she continued her training in France and had recently attained her certification as a _Maitresse des Potions. _Not to be limited to the magical world, she was currently pursuing her doctorate in chemistry at the Sorbonne in Paris.

Many weekends Hermione would take the public floo down to Le Bugue and Harry would pick her there and drive (the muggle way) to his chateau on the heights above the town. He had found that, although slower that flying by broom (which Hermione detested), driving in an open car gave them a chance to breath the fresh air and take in the scenery.

Just how many bedrooms were occupied any given night was nobody's business but theirs. Hermione knew that Harry had visits from Ginny Weasley and Gabrielle Delacour as well, but knew that all three witches owned life debts to Harry, and that all three had become close friends. He asked nothing of them but their friendship, and if the friendship was intimate, again it was no one else's business.

Hermione also knew that Harry would never hurt his friends, and that in time, some new arrangements would have to be made, but that time was in the future. And for all that they all owned life-debts, Harry would never take advantage of that fact. During one joint visit she had laughed along with Ginny and Harry when he told them that every time Ginny visited and returned home without an engagement ring, he received a nasty Howler from her mother.

When all three of the young witches had attended Harry's Winter Solstice shindig, he had admitted to them (after some serious wine consumption) that he did want to have a family someday. However, he also knew that little children could be the bossiest creatures on the planet, and he was just not ready for that. Ginny had smiled and said that her mother had told her that no parent is **ever** ready for that.

From Harry's point of view, his first conscious and formative experiences with married couples had been the Dursleys, which served as a pretty poor basis for a belief in marriage as an institution (as it was said, who would want to live in an institution?).

Molly and Arthur Weasley, and Gil and Elly Granger had served as much better examples of what marriage could be, and two out of three was not really a convincing argument.

He knew that Draco's parents were both marked Death Eaters, but he knew so little about them, other than he had despised Lucius, that the state of their marriage was a complete unknown to him. He would not call it a mystery, because that would imply that he was curious, where in reality he had absolutely no interest in the matter. Harry considered that most people thought that 'hate' was the opposite of 'love', where Harry knew that the opposite of caring deeply for the well-being of another was complete and utter indifference to their existence – to 'hate', you were still involving yourself in their lives.

Other than these few, Harry really didn't know too many married wizards and witches. The staff at Hogwarts never mentioned spouses (spice?), and other than a few of his friends, he knew nothing of the parents of most of his classmates.

As Harry was contemplating the setting sun from his porch, he got a fire-call from Ron Weasley, who had news. Harry immediately invited Ron over for dinner, as that hour was approaching. As the fireplace flared green, Ron stepped through holding the hand of one of their housemates from Hogwarts. Harry recognised Lavender Brown, who Ron had been sweet on after realizing that he and Hermione really had only one thing in common, and that was Harry. Since he had left Hogwarts, and Hermione had been at school in France, the two had drifted farther and farther apart. They were still friends, sort of.

Ron had often found Hermione's know-it-all attitude and her bossiness extremely annoying. Having been bullied most of his life by his twin brothers, having his older brothers held up as examples, and then having his mother dote on his younger sister had given Ron an instant dislike for those features of Hermione's personality, and in the end they were better apart (or as Harry saw it, better to be kept apart, for the sanity of all around them). In their first year, Ron's mother had even sent a howler to his at breakfast time, where she very loudly berated Ron very publically, and then was all sweetness-and-light to Harry. This of course had done Ron's self-esteem no good whatsoever.

Harry loved them both, but he had been through enough battles in his life to want no more. For most of his early years at Hogwarts they had been his only friends, but there is no requirement to think your friends are perfect. Because of his upbringing, Harry had learned to judge people quickly and a bit ruthlessly, just as a matter of survival.

With Hermione and Harry's absence from Hogwarts, and the disappearance of Professor Snape and many Slytherin students, Ron found himself becoming more his own man, instead of being the third leg of a stool. Although not a brilliant a student as his three oldest brothers, or his younger sister, his scholastic prowess was respectable, and his quidditch skills won him praise from the other houses as well as his own.

As Harry poured them some wine, Lavender blushed (which surprised Harry, as the beautiful young witch had been quite the shameless flirt at school) and Ron asked Harry if he would do them the honour of being Ron's best man when they got married come the summer solstice. The new couple were suddenly bound up in a strong hug, as Harry agreed with the greatest of pleasure to the request.

Over dinner, they chatted about the goings on in England and Scotland. Harry had some news from Hogwarts, as Minerva McGonagall had visited her old (and a favourite) student a number of times. Separate bedrooms. Some of the other staff had visited as well on occasion. While Dumbledore's visits often led to deep philosophical discussions or talk of history, Pomona Sprout's visits were a delight as the cheerful little Herbology professor walked him around the walnut groves in the vicinity commenting on the various plants and their (often aphrodisiacal) uses.

When Pomona and Minerva visited together, Harry was often left with sore ribs from laughing as the two witches had wicked senses of humour, which had certainly not been on display during his classes at Hogwarts - Harry felt that if the two professors every wanted to quit Hogwarts and go on the road as a comedy duo, the 'Mona and Minnie Show' would definitely be a hit.

The greatest shock to Harry was Lavender's news that Nasturtium Parkinson was getting married to Gregory Goyle. Lavender put on a New York accent and commented about her becoming a 'Nasty Goyle'.

Since Pansy's death in the clean-up of the Voldemort 'gang (Pansy had taken the full Dark Mark, while her lover Draco Malfoy had yet to take the full Mark before Voldemort and most of his friends were 'removed' from the lands of the living – like most of the real world, this fact had annoyed Draco no end), Nasturtium had proved to be cunning and ambitious, as a good Slytherin should be, but her ambition appeared to be to survive the war that was coming. She had seen no value to the bigotry that eventually got her sister and father killed.

Because of the obvious nickname for her first name, Nasturtium was using her second name (Gloria) and on her seventeenth birthday had officially changed her name, dropping her floral designation.

Now that the pure-blood bigots were losing their grip on society, certain facts were coming out. One was that Goyle's great-grandmother had been muggle-born – his grandmother and mother had seen fit to keep this fact quiet. This was far enough back that Greg's pure-blood credentials were not questioned, and with his father joining the ranks for the Death Eaters, what had been kept quiet became completely silent. The older women saw the writing on the wall, very clearly.

Because of the Death Eater affiliations, and mainly Goyle Senior's subservience to Lucius Malfoy, Gregory's grandmother had put a light block on Greg's magic and advised him to learn from history, and give the impression of, if not outright stupidity, at least limited intelligence. When she had been younger, she had read Robert Graves' book 'I, Claudius', where one of the friends of the man who was destined to become the Roman Emperor had advised the man to play stupid, and so survive the bloodbath that was the family relations in the imperial household. Slytherin cunning in action.

At his father's insistence, he had become one of Draco Malfoy's henchmen, although he made sure that all of his hexes were poorly cast, or missed their targets. Malfoy just thought him to be incompetent, which had been the intention. With Malfoy's inflated ego, it was not hard to convince the pure-blood ponce that he (Malfoy) was the powerful and clever Slytherin and leader that he had been brought up to assume was the truth.

It turned out that, after Harry Potter's departure from Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy's hatred of Potter and rapidly declining respect from the rest of the student body, had pushed the popinjay totally over the edge. As he was now declared to be the Head of Family Malfoy, but without the power or wealth to make this a position of any real value or status, Draco had started to fly into blind rages, sending curses at anyone in sight. One day, he stood up in the Great Hall, and disowned his mother, declaring that as she had not had the 'decency' to commit a murder as a good Death Eater should have done, she was no longer part of the Malfoy family.

Shortly thereafter, Draco's body was found floating in the Black Lake. As he had been the last of the Malfoy line, the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy was declared extinct.

One positive outcome of this, at least as far as Nasturtium Parkinson was concerned, was that the standing marriage contract between the House of Malfoy and the House of Parkinson (of which since the deaths of her older sister and her father, Marked Death Eaters both, she was the last heir) was ruled to be null and void.

There was some speculation that Draco's drowning had not been a suicide, but as nobody cared much, nothing was done to investigate this possibility. Rumours had floated around for a while that Miss Parkinson might have had a hand in it, or some of Narcissa Malfoy's remaining friends had some connection to the event. Of course, many of the old guard blamed Harry Potter for the death of his old rival, but as Harry had been out of the country for most of a year by this point, this claim was taken as showing how desperate 'they' were for any excuse.

With the Death eaters exterminated, Gregory's grandmother removed the blocks on his magic, and Gregory Goyle was found to be actually a decent guy (to Ron's great surprise). He had seen what the hatred did to his father and most of his family connections, and wanted no part of it.

When Ron admitted that he just couldn't trust Goyle to really have turned 'Light', and that he suspected that the Slytherin was just trying to distance himself from the backlash against the Death Eaters (under Gloria's guidance), Harry asked if it was more believable that Goyle could be as stupid as he appeared for many years, and then come across as smart, or that a smart man could fake 'dumb'. After a moment's thought, he agreed, but said he was going to watch him for a long time before he would trust the boy who had beat him up for so many years. The old 'Trust but Verify'.

Another bit of news was that Draco's mother Narcissa had been released from Azkaban, and had found that someone had provided a small pension for her. As a witch was effectively 'sold' to her husband on their marriage, a disowned witch had few options, one of the more respectable ones of which was starvation.

Ron suspected Harry had done his 'saving-people-thing' again, even for the hated woman, but Harry flatly denied it. He had promised Sirius that he would not reveal that it was his godfather that had set up the small annuity for his otherwise destitute cousin, as he felt that her bigotry had been partly forced on her by their family, and also he disagreed with the principle that, on her marriage Narcissa no longer had any (legal) connection to the Black family. Having been to Azkaban himself, the old dog was showing, if not sympathy, at least mercy.

One last bit of news was that some of the Death Eater 'apprentices' who had not yet taken the full Dark Mark, had decided that after a year or too, vigilance would have relaxed. They had decided to take a page or two out of Tom Riddle's playbook for 'Taking Over the World', and started causing the old forms of trouble again. After one or two discrete assassinations and disappearances, this behaviour had died down very quickly.

After Ron and Lavender went up to bed, Harry stayed up watching the stars from the balcony of his room. He thought about some of the discussions he had had with Hermione about the cosmos. Her maternal grandfather had been an astrophysicist, and he had told her stories of the stars and how they worked. Her grandmother had also enjoyed stargazing (which is how the Lafeys got together originally), and had told the young girl the legends about the constellations and the star names.

One topic that had come up when he and Hermione were stargazing was the quantum theory called the 'Many-Worlds Interpretation'. In this view of the theories of reality, it was thought that all possible outcomes of every action actually existed, and so there were many worlds, each the consequence of variations in the outcomes of prior events. They had talked about possible other worlds where Harry had gone to his trial and had his wand snapped, or the basilisk had killed him and Ginny had died, or one where Tom Riddle had never been born or had a happy childhood and not become Voldemort, or one where Ron and Hermione were happily married. Suggesting this last option had caused Hermione to choke on her glass of wine.

Harry liked to sit back and contemplate what might have happened if 'things had been different'. From talking with Sirius and Remus when they visited, Harry had decided that if he had met Sirius or his father during their school years, he probably would have hated them – they seemed to be the same arrogant bullies that he had had to fight all of his life, from his cousin Dudley to Draco Malfoy. But for the anti-werewolf laws, he could see his mother marrying Remus Lupin, who had apparently been the brains and tactician of the Marauders, where James Peter and Sirius had been the 'operational' part of the quartet. After all, Remus, with Lily's help, had been the primary author of the Marauder's Map.

Sirius never explained what had happened to James to allow Lily to fall in love with him. Harry suspected that James had just finally grown up (where Sirius ever had).

At this point in his reverie, Harry stopped abruptly, as he thought "What the hell right have I to tell someone else how to live their lives? This is the same arrogance as I have been fighting against my whole life!"

Arrogance. His uncle had declared that magic didn't exist, couldn't exist, and if anyone (notably Harry) thought differently, well, he was just going to beat it out of them.

Arrogance. Dumbledore had gone against his parents' wills, and dumped him with the Dursleys to live in an abusive environment (emotionally, if not physically). For the greater Good, of course.

Arrogance. Wizards deciding that they had the right to obliviate muggles who might have observed magic. If a muggle-born magical child did not accept a magical education (from 'the finest school of magic in the world'), blocks were put on their magic and their families obliviated.

Arrogance. A thousand year old hat, however magical, got to decide (on the basis of a couple of seconds' exposure) who you were going to live with, be friends with, sleep with, associated with, probably mate with, and influence you through your whole long life.

Arrogance. Dumbledore and the Ministry deciding that a fourth-year student, who was explicitly forbidden to enter a contest where more experienced and educated students were routinely killed, had to participate.

Arrogance. Wizards killing anyone they thought inferior, such as those without magic, or those of other species who didn't have the same magic.

Arrogance. Wizards (Dumbledore again) who believed that, due to their long lives and experience, they knew better how to run other people's lives. Who knew nothing of the magical knowledge of house elves, or goblins, of centaurs or others, but believed themselves superior to all of these.

Arrogance. When Dumbledore found that the goblins and their curse-breakers were fully aware of Horcruxes, he was dumbfounded – in Britain this had been a state secret, so even other wizards and witches were not to be trusted with this knowledge, even if it could save lives. As to what the goblins knew or what their magic could do, or for that matter what magic house elves could perform, like most wizards, Dumbledore had never even bothered to ask.

Arrogance. Harry telling his godfather (or dogfather) to grow up. The man had been in prison for most of his adult life, and now was living the life of a rich playboy. Harry was falling into the same middle-class morality that the Dursleys had tried to drum into him. Not only was this arrogant, it was also hypocritical of him. Sirius was currently seeing (and other verbs) Veronique Desoiseaux, a Veela cousin of the Delacours – being a Veela, Niki was as lusty as Sirius (Harry had similar experience with Gabrielle, and she was only part-Veela), and the two were happy together. For the moment, or longer, who could tell? What right did Harry have to interfere?

Harry thought of the couple of old friends in the guest bedroom, and thought "At least someone I know seems to be headed for a happy life.

Looking back, most of Harry's life had been a horror show. Ten years of living with the Dursleys after witnessing his mother's murder, then four years of school where he could be sure of at least one attempt to kill him per year, while being harassed or verbally abused, a contest where every event was a threat on his life, and finally the arrogant powers-that-were threatening him with loss of the one good thing in his life for having the temerity of defending himself and his cousin from another deadly attack.

As he realized that the glow in the east was the oncoming dawn and that he had stayed up all night thinking, he drained his glass. He would take the coming of the new day as a sign. Life was not perfect, but it was awfully good.

Finally!


End file.
